JASPER   FAIRFAX 


OF  A  FORMER  BOOK  BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 
THE  LITERARY  WORLD,  BOSTON,  SAID  : 

"  Our  reading  of  it  has  discovered  in  it  more  of  the 
elements  of  that  long  expected  product,  the  great  American 
novel,  than  we  have  found  in  any  recent  work  of  fiction. 
The  subject  is  thoroughly,  intensely  American  ;  the  book  is 
right  out  of  the  soil ;  it  is  like  a  block  of  New  England 
granite,  or  one  of  the  big  trees  of  California  ;  it  has  large 
stature,  reserve  force,  abundant  play  of  power  ;  its  intellect- 
ual endowment  is  marked ;  it  has  character,  incident, 
sentiment,  and  passion  ;  it  is  virile,  natural,  life-like, 
dramatic,  absorbing. 

Nothing  is  exaggerated.  The  tale  has  the  calm,  plain, 
terrible  intensity  of  truth.  It  is  told  with  the  self-possession 
of  an  eye  witness.  To  those  who  have  nerve  for  the  tragic, 
who  can  bear  to  stand  and  see  sin  work  itself  out  into  the 
wages  of  death,  we  commend  it  as  one  of  the  most  original, 
able,  and  remarkable  of  recent  novels." 


JASPER    FAIRFAX 


BY 

MARGARET   HOLMES 

AUTHOR    OF 

"Manitou,"    "The  Price  of  the  Ring" 


NEW  YORK 

R.  F.  FENNO  &  COMPANY 
9  AND  ii  EAST  1 6-TH  STREET 


Copyright,  1897 

BY 
R.  F.  FBNNO  &  COMPANY 


Jasper  Fairfax 


JASPER  FAIRFAX. 


CHAPTER   I. 

"  Tell  me,  Doctor,  how  long  can  I  live?  " 

"  Many  years  I  hope; "  but  Doctor  Dome  did  not 
meet  the  eyes  of  his  patient  as  he  spoke.  He  kept  his 
finger  on  her  wrist,  and  dampened  the  bandage  about 
her  head  with  a  sponge. 

"  Why  should  you  hope,  or  say  you  hope  when  you 
know  my  hours,  possibly  my  moments  are  but  few?  " 

The  injured  woman  panted  for  breath,  but,  with  an 
effort  that  started  the  crimson  stain  through  the  band- 
age about  her  temples  and  deepened  the  pallor 
around  her  mouth  she  continued: 

"  I  know  the  truth.  I  know  I  am  dying.  I  must 
tell  something  to  Jasper.  I  must  send  for  Cogswell. 
Aunt  Sue,"  to  the  nurse  who  had  assisted  the  phy- 
sician, "go  send  one  of  the  boys  for  Cogswell.  Go  at 
once ; "  as  the  woman  hesitated,  glancing  at  Doctor 
Dome. 

The  physican  nodded,  and  the  nurse  left  the  room. 
There  was  silence  then,  broken  by  sounds  of  sobbing 

[5] 


6  Jasper  Fairfax. 

and  the  voice  of  some  one  repeating  the  words:  "  We 
humbly  commend  the  soul  of  this,  thy  servant,  our 
dear  brother,  into  thy  hands,  as  into  the  hands  of  a 
faithful  Creator,  and  most  merciful  Saviour;  most 
humbly  beseeching  thee,  that  it  may  be  precious  in 
thy  sight." 

The  sounds  came  from  an  adjoining  room.  The 
connecting  door  was  slightly  ajar.  The  physician 
tried  to  close  it,  but  found  a  defective  latch.  When 
he  came  back  to  the  bedside  his  patient  said: 

"  So  my  husband  is  dying  too.  Since  we  both  must 
go  I'm  glad  that  he  goes  first." 

Doctor  Dome  continued  his  ministrations  in 
silence.  The  voice  finished  the  prayer  "  through  the 
merits  of  Jesus  Christ,  thine  only  Son  our  Lord, 
Amen."  The  sobbing  voice  cried  "  Oh  Papa!"  and 
a  man,  as  if  he  choked  with  tears  said :  "  Come  away 
darling."  Then  the  solemn  voice  heard  in  the  prayer 
was  speaking  again,  low  and  hurriedly. 

Aunt  Sue  came  in  wiping  her  eyes. 

"  Don't  cry,  Auntie,"  the  dying  woman  whispered. 

"  Don't  worry  me  with  tears.  I  know  you  love  me. 
I  need  all  my  strength  to  see  to  it  that  justice  shall  be 
done  after  I'm  gone." 

The  door  into  the  room  where  had  been  heard  the 
sounds  of  prayer  and  weeping  was  slowly  opened, 
and  the  woman's  face  lightened  and  darkened  in  the 
same  instant. 

"  Tell  Jasper  to  come  with  Doctor  Ballantyne,"  she 
whispered. 

"They's  comin'  honey." 

"  But  I  don't  want  Salome.  Keep  her  away.  Leave 
her  with  her  father." 


Jasper  Fairfax.  7 

Three  persons  entered  the  room.  Doctor 
Ballantyne,  tall,  pale,  serious,  with  clergyman  written 
unmistakably  in  the  cast  of  his  countenance  as  well 
as  the  cut  of  his  coat.  He  was  followed  by  a  man, 
young,  handsome  and  tall  as  himself  who  supported 
a  slender,  weeping  girl  on  his  arm. 

"Jasper — Jasper,"  the  woman  exclaimed  eagerly, 
"  send  Salome  away." 

"  Oh  Aunt  Agnes,"  the  young  man  commenced,  as 
he  led  the  girl  towards  the  bed. 

"  Send  her  away,  I  tell  you !"  and  she  made  an 
effort  to  rise. 

"There,  there  honey,"  and  Aunt  Sue  held  her 
mistress  in  her  arms  while  tears  rained  down  her 
shining  black  face. 

"  Here  Ceely,  take  care  of  Miss  Salome,"  Jasper 
said  to  a  young  black  woman  who  stood  near  the 
door.  "  Her  mother  doesn't  want  her  to  see  how 
she's  suffering." 

"  Now  Doctor,"  began  the  dying  woman,  "  you 
must  keep  me  alive  until  I  set  right  for  Jasper  a 
wrong  that  I  have  submitted"  to  for  twenty  years. 
But,  let  me  say  now,  if  my  strength  fails,  all  I  wish  to 
tell  you  is  written  by  my  own  hand,  there  in  that  little 
safe.  Cogswell  has  a  copy  of  it.  He'll  be  here  soon, 
Auntie?  " 

"  Yes  honey,  Ben  done  gone  fo'  him." 

"  Then,  my  dear  Mrs.  Redfield,  turn  your  thoughts 
to  God.  Why  waste  your  strength  on  earthly 
matters?  "  from  Doctor  Ballantyne. 

"  No,  no,  wait  till  I  tell  you.  I  must  be  sure, — I 
must  be  sure.  Did  you  say  Ralph  was  dead?  " 

"  Yes,  he  is  at  rest." 


8  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"  Ah!  "  and  Mrs.  Redfield  closed  her  eyes.  "  Such 
an  ending!  and  such  a  life  as  we  have  passed  to- 
gether! " 

"  But  now  that  it  is  past,"  said  the  clergyman. 

"  No,  no,"  she  interrupted.  "  Wait.  No  prayers 
for  me  now." 

She  lay  quiet  for  a  moment.  Aunt  Sue  fanned  her 
slowly,  the  three  men  sat  in  silence.  Suddenly  the 
dark  heavy  eyes  opened. 

"Jasper,  you'll  be  unworthy  of  your  name  if  you 
break  your  heart,  or  in  the  least  mar  your  prospects 
or  your  purposes  in  life  for  the  sake  of — Salome." 

"  Dear  Aunt  Agnes, — " 

"  No,  listen  to  me.  I'm  not  raving.  Ask  Doctor 
Dome  if  I'm  not  in  condition  to  speak  sanely.  The 
written  explanation  that  you'll  not  read  until  I'm 
dead,  will  be  witness  to  all  I  say.  You  must  not 
marry  Salome." 

"Aunt  Agnes — no — if  you  forbid  it.  There  must  be 
some  great  and  good  reason,"  and  Jasper  Fairfax 
leaned  forward  and  clasped  in  his  own  the  long, 
slender,  chilly  hand  of  Mrs.  Redfield. 

"  I  do  forbid  it,  for  the  reason  that — she  is  not  my 
daughter." 

"Aunt  Agnes ! "  and  Jasper  leaned  nearer,  while 
the  physician  and  clergyman  glanced  at  each  other 
pityingly  as  if  understanding  that  this  was  the  de- 
lirium of  failing  senses  that  preceded  the  darkness  of 
death. 

Aunt  Sue  nodded  her  turbaned  head  while  the 
great  tears  flooded  her  face.  "  I  knowed  it,  I 
knowed  it,"  she  whispered. 

"No,  Salome  is  not  my  child.     You  know  how 


Jasper  Fairfax.  9 

Ralph  and  I  came  home  after  an  absence  of  three 
years  in  Europe.  At  least  you've  been  told.  All  the 
people  about  us  know.  We  brought  the  little  child, 
Salome  with  us  and  said  she  was  our  daughter.  But 
we  did  not  bring  home  Jocasta,  my  quadroon  maid 
who  had  gone  away  with  us.  You,  Doctor  Dome, 
and  you  Doctor  Ballantyne  know  how  beautiful  she 
was?" 

The  two  men  assented  silently  with  downcast  eyes. 
Jasper  glanced  hurriedly  from  Mrs.  Redfield  to  them 
and  back  again.  There  was  wonder,  horror,  incre- 
dulity in  his  face,  but  evidently  his  two  old  friends 
believed  her. 

"  I  need  not  say  a  word  about  Salome's  father. 
You  know  how  much  she  resembles  him,  excepting 
her  eyes.  They  are  like  Jocasta's.  I  never  saw  that 
wonderful  coppery  tinted  hair,  save  Salome's  and — 
her  father's.  She  was  born  in  a  hamlet  nestled  far 
away  in  a  nook  of  the  Calabrian  mountains.  Tourists 
never  go  there.  We  studied  maps  and  guide-books 
and  wandered  about  for  weeks  before  finding  this 
spot." 

"  Aunt  Agnes,  was  this  child  palmed  off  as  yours 
with  your  consent?  How  could  it  have  been  done 
without?  "  Jasper  asked. 

"I  did  consent.  Listen.  Ah,  there's  Cogswell! 
the  one  person  in  the  world  who  knows  my  real  at- 
titude in  the  matter." 

The  lawyer  came  in  briskly  but  cautiously.  He 
had  been  told  of  the  runaway  team  that  had  dashed 
the  carriage  to  pieces.  He  knew  the  driver  had  been 
killed  instantly.  He  knew  that  in  the  next  room,  the 
communicating  door  now  propped  shut  with  a  has- 


io  Jasper  Fairfax. 

sock,  the  undertaker's  men  were  busy  with  the 
remains  of  Ralph  Redfield.  He  had  come  prepared 
for  a  last  service  to  Agnes  Fairfax  Redfield.  For 
several  years  he  had  known  that  if  he  out-lived  this 
life-long  friend,  he  would  be  called  upon  for  this  ser- 
vice. He  only,  of  all  this  fortunate  woman's  friends 
knew  of  the  heart-ache  she  continually  endured. 

He  seated  himself  after  pressing  her  cold  fingers. 
He  laid  a  leathern  case  across  his  knees.  Doctor 
Dome  moistened  Mrs.  Redfield's  lips,  saying: 
"Would  you  not  better  rest  now  and  let  Mr.  Cogs- 
well read  your  statement?  " 

"  No,  no,  I  must  be  sure,  sure.  Yes,  Jasper,  I 
consented  by  word  to  receive  the  child  as  heir  of  my 
body;  to  marry  her,  at  a  suitable  age,  to  you,  my 
brother's  son,  if  I  might  be  forever  rid  of  her  mother, 
Jocasta.  You  know  why  I  paid  this  price.  It  was 
on  our  bridal  journey  that  we  found  Jocasta  and 
Victor,  brother  and  sister,  in  New  Orleans.  Since 
then,  till — now,  Ralph  Redfield  has  divided  his  love 
between  Jocasta  and  me.  This  is  why  I  speak.  This 
is  why  I  wrote  out  this  shameful  story,  and  had  Mr. 
Cogswell  copy  it.  My  husband  did  not  keep  faith 
with  me  six  months.  I  willingly  provided  for  Jocasta. 
I  left  her  in  a  pleasant  little  villa  of  her  own.  She 
and  her — other  children  have  wanted  for  nothing. 
Ralph  promised  me  he  would  never  see  her  again 
when  we  left  her  and  carried  baby  Salome  with  us. 
But,  he  has  seen  her  many  times.  He  has  been  in 
continual  communication  with  her.  When  we've 
been  traveling  about,  Jocasta  was  always  in  the  same 
town  with  us.  I  knew  this  though  her  name  was 
never  mentioned  between  us.  I  could  not  quarrel 


Jasper  Fairfax.  II 

with  him,  but,  I  determined  to  outwit  him  at  last. 
Long  ago,  I  resolved  to  put  off  the  evil  news  as  late 
as  possible,  but  I  felt  that  I  could  not  allow  my 
nephew  to  marry  her.  Now,  if  my  husband  was  alive 
and  well,  and  I  as  I  am,  this  should  be  told.  Death 
has  ended  the  long  period  of  deception." 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Redfield,"  said  the  clergyman, 
"  this  must  have  been  a  great  cross  for  you." 

"Ah,  God  alone  knows  how  heavy  my  cross  has 
been.  But,  I  have  lived  up  to  my  part  of  the  covenant 
that  related  to  the  care  and  education  of  Jocasta's 
child.  I  taught  her  to  call  me  mother  when  I  could 
have  screamed  and  torn  my  flesh  at  each  repetition  of 
the  word  that  hid  the  shame  of  my  husband  and 
deepened  the  lie  that  I  was  living.  I  have  kept  her 
away  at  school  as  long  as  possible.  In  this  I  con- 
tinually opposed  the  wishes  of  her  father.  He  would 
have  had  her  always  at  home.  But  her  school  days 
are  over.  Our  preparations  were  making  for  in- 
troducing her  into  society.  Ah  me!  how  sweet  it  is 
to  die  instead !  " 

Her  eyes  closed  wearily,  there  was  a  slight  quiver- 
ing of  the  body.  Jasper  felt  the  hand  he  held  relax 
from  its  light  clasp.  The  soul  of  Agnes  Redfield  had 
gone  to  its  own  place 


12  Jasper  Fairfax. 


CHAPTER  II. 

The  summer  light  was  tempered  pleasantly  by 
drawn  blinds,  delicate  shades  and  handsome  lace 
hangings.  There  was  nothing  about  the  house  now 
to  remind  the  inmates  of  the  tragedy  that  had  for  its 
finish  the  triple  funeral  but  the  somber  garments  of 
kindred  and  servants  and  the  unusual  quiet  that  per- 
vaded the  Big  House,  the  gardens,  the  quarters,  and 
the  fields  where  no  work  had  been  done  for  three 
days.  In  the  fresh  morning  the  three  dead,  master, 
mistress  and  black  Tom  had  been  carried  to  the 
church-yard  just  beyond  the  orchards,  and  sloping  a 
little  to  the  banks  of  the  deep,  narrow  river.  The 
gray  church  spire  could  be  seen  from  the  windows  on 
that  side  of  the  house.  The  church  was  built  by  the 
grandfather  of  Jasper  Fairfax  in  his  young  manhood 
and  dedicated  to  the  memory  of  the  wife  who  died  in 
giving  birth  to  a  son.  About  the  plain  gray  walls 
was  laid  the  dust  of  the  Fairfaxs'  and  their  servants. 
Here  then  were  brought  Ralph  and  Agnes  Redfield 
and  laid  side  by  side  with  their  bondman  at  their  feet. 

Now  the  household  was  gathered  in  the  long  draw- 
ing room  to  hear  the  reading  of  the  wills.  The  slaves 
were  all  there.  When  did  a  Fairfax  die  forgetting 
one  that  called  him  master? 

John  Cogswell  was  there,  as  a  matter  of  course. 
Doctor  Ballantyne  had  been  invited,  as  "  suitable 
and  needful  under  the  circumstances."  Jasper  Fair- 
fax, with  a  frozen  look  upon  his  face  that  no  one  had 


Jasper  Fairfax.  13 

ever  seen  there  before  sat  with  downcast  eyes. 
Salome,  pale  as  a  lily  in  her  black  robes,  felt  more 
lonely,  she  thought,  than  even  the  occurrences  of  the 
last  three  days  warranted.  She  felt  a  chill  and  an 
unaccountable  reserve  in  the  manner  of  all  who 
approached  her.  John  Cogswell,  the  business  man 
of  the  family,  with  whom  she  had  always  been  on 
terms  of  pleasant  familiarity,  spoke  to  her  when  nec- 
essary with  a  mingling  of  brusqueness  and  ceremony 
altogether  new  to  him.  Doctor  Ballantyne  who  had 
trained  and  petted  her  since  her  babyhood,  passed 
and  repassed  her  now  without  the  usual  kindly  word, 
with  no  least  comforting  touch  of  his  hands.  Even 
Jasper!  He  had  always  been  her  lover.  He  met  her 
with  averted  gaze,  and  words  few  and  formal.  Why 
should  these  things  be?  Was  this  the  proper  be- 
haviour in  time  of  bereavement?  There  was  another 
thing  that  had  happened.  Now  that  the  funeral  was 
over  she  had  time  to  review  it.  That  morning  in 
going  to  the  church  Jasper  had  ridden  alone,  and  his 
carriage  had  preceded  hers.  Victor  and  Aunt  Sue 
rode  with  her.  Victor's  arm  supported  her  at  the 
graves.  Even  in  that  dreadful  half  hour,  she  felt  how 
much  comfort  there  would  have  been  in  the  touch  of 
Jasper's  hand,  in  one  whispered  word  of  love. 
Probably  it  was  all  in  accord  with  the  etiquette  of 
funerals.  This  was  the  first  one  she  had  ever  attended. 
Probably  it  was  a  blunder  on  the  part  of  the  director. 
At  the  time  she  only  felt  lonely,  and  a  longing  for 
sympathy.  This  was  the  only  feeling  she  had  when, 
in  the  church  she  was  seated  with  her  slaves,  in  a 
pew  with  Victor  and  Aunt  Sue  and  Ceely,  while  Jas- 
per occupied  the  seat  of  chief  mourner.  Now  that 


14  Jasper  Fairfax. 

all  was  quiet  she  found  something  new  and  strange 
even  in  the  behaviour  of  the  slaves.  She  would  have 
supposed  that  they  loved  her  too  much  to  permit 
them  to  indulge  in  cruel  curiosity  about  her  grief. 
But  she  found  herself  watched  by  idle  prying  eyes. 
The  half  grown  blacks  leered  and  whispered  behind 
their  hands  in  her  presence. 

She  had  not  been  called  to  the  dining  room  since 
death  came  into  the  house.  Aunt  Sue  carried  a  tray 
to  her  room  or  sent  Ceely  with  it.  This  she  had  ac- 
cepted without  question.  Aunt  Sue  was  getting  gray 
and  old.  She  knew  what  was  proper  to  do. 

So  now,  when  she  entered  the  room  to  hear  the 
wills  read,  Victor  met  her,  and  seated  her,  not  at  the 
end  with  Jasper,  Doctor  Ballantyne  and  lawyer  Cogs- 
well, but  near  the  middle,  and,  just  back  of  her  were 
grouped  her  slaves.  Victor  sat  with  one  hand  rest- 
ing on  her  high-back  chair. 

In  the  midst  of  her  vague  wonderings  Cogswell 
arose  and  unfolded  a  long  sheet  of  paper.  He  was 
visibly  nervous.  His  hands  shook  until  the  paper 
rattled.  His  voice  was  tremulous  as  he  began  reading 
the  last  will  and  testament  of  Ralph  Redfield.  It  was 
not  much  to  read,  but  every  servant  was  remembered 
by  a  small  gift  of  money,  then  all  were  commended  to 
the  kindly  care  of  his  dear  daughter  Salome.  To 
her  he  left  his  medical  library  and  all  other  books  he 
possessed.  Several  cases  of  surgical  instruments,  cab- 
inets of  curios,  some  choice  marbles  and  bronzes,  a 
few  fine  jewels  and  all  the  monies  of  which  he  might 
die  possessed. 

When  this  was  finished  there  was  a  pause,  and  to 


Jasper  Fairfax.  i5 

those  not  too  preoccupied  to  see  it,  the  lawyer's 
agitation  was  painful. 

Doctor  Ballantyne,  in  a  stage  whisper  admonished 
him,  "  Be  brave,  be  brave,  get  through  with  it  as 
quickly  as  you  can.  It's  nothing, — very  common." 

"  Yes,  I  know,  in  some  of  the  phases  the  circum- 
stances are  common  enough,  but  I  can't  get  used  to 
them,"  and  he  glanced  furtively  toward  Salome. 

All  eyes  were  turned  upon  her,  all  but  Jasper's. 
He  leaned  his  elbow  on  the  arm  of  his  chair,  and  his 
head  on  his  hand. 

Salome  sat  with  downcast  eyes.  Slow  tears  were 
coursing  over  her  cheeks.  She  heard  the  lawyer's 
voice  as  in  a  dream.  What  had  that  long  story  of 
quadroon  Jocasta  to  do  with  her?  and  why  should  her 
mother  publish  this  shame  after  she  and  her  unfaith- 
ful husband  were  forever  past  sinning  and  repenting? 
But,  this  little  child  named  Salome!  Ah!  She  lifted 
her  head.  The  tears  on  her  cheeks  were  burned  dry 
in  the  crimson  glow  of  shame.  It  meant  that!  She, 
Salome  Redfield,  was  not  Redfield,  she  was  only — 
Salome  as  Jo  was  Jo,  as  Ceely  was  Ceely,  as  Aunt 
Sue — "  Oh!  "  with  a  long  drawn  moan.  She  turned 
her  eyes  to  the  slaves.  They  met  her  questioning 
gaze  with  no  hint  of  sympathy.  She  was  one  of 
themselves,  nothing  more.  She  looked  at  Jasper. 
He  had  not  changed  his  position.  His  hand  hid  his 
eyes. 

The  reading  was  now  of  the  disposition  of  the  per- 
sonal property  of  Agnes  Fairfax  Redfield.  She  too 
remembered  the  slaves  for  kindness,  long  servitude, 
honesty,  and  in  a  few  instances  for  unusual  faithful- 
ness to  trusts.  Then  she  commended  them  one  and 


1 6  Jasper  Fairfax. 

all  to  her  beloved  nephew,  Jasper  Fairfax,  her  nearest 
relation.  Also,  in  accordance  with  her  father's  often 
expressed  wish  in  case  she  died  without  heirs,  she 
gave  him  in  fee  simple,  her  share  in  the  lands  known 
as  Fairfax  Farms.  She  asked  him,  as  he  loved  her 
and  in  memory  of  their  uninterrupted  friendship  to 
regard  her  wishes  in  reference  to  several  old  slaves. 
She  wished  them  to  be  comfortably  housed  and  cared 
for  as  long  as  they  lived.  In  the  last  clause  was  the 
sharpest  sting  of  all.  It  read:  "  Probably  it  will  be 
well  to  dispose  of  this  girl  known  as  Salome.  Her 
training  may  make  her  troublesome." 

As  this  was  read  the  girl  sprang  from  her  chair  and 
faced  the  group  at  the  end  of  the  room.  Cogswell 
mopped  his  face  with  his  damp  handkerchief.  Doctor 
Ballantyne  gazed  coldly  upon  the  girl  whose  growth 
he  had  watched  with  fond  interest  and  quoted  in  his 
professional  voice :  "  Servants,  be  obedient  to  your 
masters." 

Jasper  lifted  his  head  and  met  Salome's  blazing 
eyes.  What  will  he  say?  was  the  swift  question  her 
heart  was  beating  out.  This  man  who  had  always 
been  her  lover,  who  would  have  been  her  husband  so 
soon — ah,  would  he?  Now  he  was  her  owner — her 
master.  Sometimes  men  had.  loved  and  had  given 
honorable  marriage  to  their  chattels;  but,  would  he? 
She  had  used  to  call  him  Saul.  He  was  so  tall,  so 
kingly  amongst  men.  His  clear  dark  eyes  had  always 
met  her  own  so  steadfastly,  so  admiringly. 

To  him  she  had  been  a  stately  sunflower  with  her 
velvet  brown  eyes  and  her  aureola  of  copper-colored 
hair.  She  knew  now  how  to  account  for  the  silken 
ripples  of  this  wonderful  mass  of  hair,  for  the  indefin- 


Jasper   Fairfax.  17 

able  charm  of  her  complexion.  She  knew,  true 
daughter  of  the  South  that  she  was,  the  cause  of  the 
creamy  transparency  of  her  cheek  that  Jasper  had 
kissed  and  declared  unequalled  in  all  the  world.  But, 
may-hap,  so  had  her  father  kissed  and  praised  her 
mother.  She  waited  for  him  to  speak,  not  dreaming 
of  the  effort  it  cost  him  to  do  so.  She  half  expected 
him  to  leave  his  place,  to  come  and  take  her  in  his 
arms  and  claim  her  by  the  old  covenant.  But,  with- 
out one  slightest  movement  after  meeting  her  eyes, 
he  said  in  a  low  steady  voice,  "  Perhaps  you  would 
better  go  to  your  room,  Salome.  I'll  talk  to  you  by 
and  by." 

This  was  the  first  order  from  her  owner.  His  voice 
sounded  hard  and  cold.  He  looked  straight  into  her 
eyes.  She  cowered  before  him.  It  was  the  look, 
the  tone  of  the  master. 

She  left  the  room,  this  long,  stately,  beautiful  room 
where  so  often  she  had  met  her  father's  friends, 
where  so  many  times  she  had  danced  the  hours  away 
with  Jasper  and  other  men  who  envied  him  in  his 
good  fortune  of  lands  and  slaves,  and  coveted  his 
future  wife. 

She  sat  down  when  she  reached  her  own  room. 
How  strange  everything  looked!  How  that  one 
sentence  seemed  blazoned  over  everything:  "Dis- 
pose of  this  girl  known  as  Salome."  She  who  but 
three  days  ago  had  all  the  world  at  her  feet,  and  all 
the  world  was  as  nothing  compared  with  her  one  true 
lover,  was  now,  only  a  chattel  to  be  disposed  of. 

That  pale,  cold,  stony-eyed  woman  whom  she  had 
called  mother!  Why,  what  a  dual  life  she  had  lived! 
She  had  written  those  words,  "this  girl  known  as 


1 8  Jasper  Fairfax. 

Salome"  years  ago.  At  any  time  since  her  childhood 
the  blow  might  have  fallen.  Did  she  wish  it  had 
come  sooner?  "Ah,  Jasper.!" 

Had  Mrs.  Redfield  acted  well  the  lie?  No. 
Salome  told  herself  now  that  she  might  have  sus- 
pected the  truth  long  ago.  Her  father  had  petted 
and  caressed  her  always.  He  never  could  find  names 
for  her  that  quite  satisfied  him.  He  praised  her 
beauty  and  her  sprightliness  continually.  She  could 
not  now  remember  one  caress  or  one  word  of  praise 
bestowed  upon  her  by  Mrs.  Redfield.  She  knew  of 
the  disagreements  between  the  husband  and  the  wife 
in  regard  to  her  education.  Doctor  Redfield  fav- 
ored governesses  and  home  training;  his  wife  in- 
sisted on  boarding  schools,  and  had  her  way. 

Salome  sat  with  clenched  hands  and  she  spoke  the 
bitterness  of  her  thought. 

"  I  might  have  known  she  was  not  my  mother. 
No  girl's  mother  I  ever  knew  acted  as  she  did.  No 
wonder  my  father, — ah,  he  was  my  father!  loved 
Jocasta.  A  fine  old  Greek  name!  My  mother  was 
beautiful  too.  But,  what  will  Jasper  say?  Oh  me! 
Does  he  love  me  as  my  father  loved  Jocasta?  I 
wonder,  if  he  had  been  free  if  he'd  have  made  her  his 
wife.  No,  he  would  not,"  she  answered  herself.  She 
knew  he  was  true  to  his  class,  true  to  tradition,  true 
to  the  code  that  stamped  with  contumely  any  least 
taint  of  black  blood.  And  yet,  he  would  have  mar- 
ried her  to  Jasper,  his  wife's  relation.  Ah,  yes,  there 
was  the  cropping  out  of  the  blot  in  his  character.  He 
had  lied  to  his  wife  and  gratified  his  passion.  He 
would  have  lied  to  Jasper  to  benefit  a  part  of  himself. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  19 

"  Jasper  will  not  marry  me.  How  will  he  dispose 
of  me?" 

She  cowered  where  she  sat  and  looked  about  fur- 
tively. She  caught  sight  of  herself  in  a  mirror.  She 
stared  in  wonder.  How  had  that  pale,  crouching, 
wild-eyed  creature  found  her  way  into  this  room? 
She  opened  her  lips  to  speak,  she  lifted  her  hand. 
Then  she  knew  she  was  censuring  her  own  shadow. 
It  was  the  blood  of  some  fugitive  ancestor  stirring  in 
her  veins  that  had  disguised  her  to  her  own  eyes. 


2O  Jasper  Fairfax. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Next  morning  a  half-grown  girl  came  to  Salome 
with  a  message. 

Usually  Ceely  had  done  all  errands  to  and  from 
Salome's  room,  but,  since  assisting,  in  a  dilatory, 
impertinent  fashion  to  dress  her  mistress  for  the 
funeral,  she  had  not  shown  herself  in  the  room. 

This  message  was  only,  "  Mas'  Fai'fax  wants  to  see 
yo." 

"  Very  well  Nan,"  Salome  answered.  "  Send 
Ceely  to  help  me  dress." 

The  girl  stared  at  her  and  grinned,  but  went  away. 
In  a  minute  she  was  back,  still  grinning. 

"Aunt  Sue  done  tole  me  Ceely's  busy,  and  yo 
mustn't  keep  Mas'  Fai'fax  waitin'. 

There  could  be  no  mistaking  this.  The  servants 
must  have  their  cue  from  the  master.  She  only 
needed  a  word  from  him  in  confirmation. 

Her  night-long  vigil  had  left  her  languid  and 
heavy-eyed.  She  had  tasted  no  morsel  of  food  since 
knowing  herself  as  only  "  the  girl  Salome."  Still 
she  was  not  quite  spiritless.  She  would  know  from 
himself  how  her  master  meant  to  dispose  of  her. 

She  arose  with  blazing  eyes  and  flushing  cheeks. 
She  shook  out  the  heavy  hair,  and,  all  unaccustomed 
as  she  was  to  the  task,  twisted  it  loosely  and  grace- 
fully into  a  coil  on  top  of  her  head.  She  pinned  it  in 
place  with  a  few  jet  pins  that  shone  like  dark  eyes  in 
the  burnished  coppery  coils.  She  wrapped  about  her 


Jasper  Fairfax.  21 

a  heavy  black  silken  robe  with  never  a  glint  nor  a 
rustle.  She  had  used  to  wear  it  lit  up  with  amber  or 
turquoise.  Now  the  dead  black  was  only  relieved 
with  jet. 

As  she  passed  down  the  broad  stairs  she  knew  she 
was  watched  by  the  house  servants  from  landings, 
closets  and  half-open  doors.  At  the  foot  was  Victor. 
He  stood  with  down-cast  eyes.  How  kind  and  af- 
fectionate he  had  always  been  to  her.  He  had  known 
all  about  her,  all  her  life.  He  knew  where  her  mother 
was  hidden  away.  No  doubt  he  had  been  the  go- 
between  for  Doctor  Redfield  and  Jocasta  all  these 
years. 

As  she  passed  him  he  leaned  over  her  and 
whispered  hurriedly: 

"  Be  brave,  I'll  stand  by  you." 

She  answered  him  with  a  glance,  this  uncle  of  hers, 
and  her  cheeks  burned  and  there  was  a  dragging 
weight  at  her  heart  as  she  tacitly  acknowledged  the 
relationship. 

She  passed  into  the  drawing  room.  There  sat 
Jasper,  idly  gazing  out  through  the  open  window. 
It  was  a  fair  sight.  The  lawn,  sloping  away  and 
melting  into  fields  covered  with  pluming  corn  or 
billowy  grass,  and  these  stretching  to  join  the  wood- 
lands that  had  been  so  carefully  pruned  there  was  not 
an  unsightly  tree  within  its  hundreds  of  acres.  There 
was  no  finer  estate  in  all  Kentucky  than  Fairfax 
Farms.  The  first  owners,  two  English  brothers  had 
obtained  it  from  the  government  before  the  rebell- 
ious Colonies  had  cut  away  from  the  Mother  Country 
across  the  Sea.  In  the  days  long  before  there  were 
state  lines,  wandering  bands  of  Indians  had  camped 


22  Jasper  Fairfax. 

in  peace  within  sight  of  the  cabins  of  the  tall  Fairfax 
brothers.  Hunters  and  trappers  of  all  the  nation- 
alities that  came  flocking  to  the  great  hunting 
grounds  found  in  these  cabins  a  welcome  at  coming, 
a  helping  hand,  a  cheerful  word  and  a  full  provision 
wallet  at  going. 

Through  strange  chance,  through  five  generations 
the  farms  had  never  been  divided  save  by  two. 

They  were  not  a  prolific  race,  though  always  of 
tall  stature  and  perfect  health.  Though  there  had 
been  daughters  they  invariably  died  childless,  and 
then  their  portion  reverted  to  the  Fairfax  estate.  It 
had  never  happened  that  cousins  had  married.  With 
Old  World  ideas  of  family  dignity,  the  oldest  son  had 
been  named  Jasper,  always.  In  the  little  church- 
yard looking  over  the  deep-walled  river  lay  four  of 
the  name,  each  representing  his  own  generation. 

The  Jasper  Fairfax  who  now  gazed  so  complacent- 
ly upon  his  fair  inheritance  was  a  fine  representative 
of  his  race.  There  was  left  in  his  face  and  physique 
no  trace  of  English  origin.  His  fair  faced,  blue-eyed 
British  forefathers  had  wooed  dark  girls  of  the 
further  south;  girls  with  storm-black  hair,  haunting 
eyes,  musical  voices  and  feet  trained  to  time  the 
throbbing  of  guitars,  the  clatter  of  castanet. 

Jasper  Fairfax  was  purely  American,  soul  and 
body.  Tall,  broad  of  shoulder,  slender  of  hip,  light 
of  step,  quick  of  motion.  His  clean  cut  features  had 
lost  English  roundness,  but  had  gained  lines  that  a 
sculptor  might  have  copied  in  his  Greek  god.  His 
eyes  were  greenish  hazel,  his  hair,  black  in  shadow, 
golden  bronze  in  sun  was  abundant  and  full  of  the 
fascination  of  shifting  waves. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  23 

In  his  school  and  college  days  when  boyish  ad- 
mirers would  say  to  him  openly : 

"  Fairfax,  you're  a  devilish  handsome  fellow,"  he 
had  no  answer  but  to  drawl  indifferently:  "Yes,  I 
reckon  you're  right,  the  Fairfaxs'  were  good  looking 
people  to  start  with  and  they've  always  had  the  good 
taste  to  match  themselves  well  in  marriage." 

Since  the  death  of  his  aunt  his  mind  had  been  ex- 
ercised continually  with  the  turning  over  and  over  of 
one  thought:  The  change  that  had  come  to  his  own 
fortunes.  Once  more  Fairfax  Farms  were  undivided. 
If  Salome  had  been  his  cousin,  very  soon  she  would 
have  been  his  wife.  The  land  would  have  been  his, 
virtually,  and  yet  there  would  have  been  frequent 
legal  formalities  to  remind  him  of  the  real  ownership. 
His  aunt's  chattel  and  personal  property  would  have 
been  Salome's  without  question.  Now  she  had  only 
what  her  father  left  for  her.  He  recalled  Doctor 
Redfield's  specifications.  He  had  mentioned  his 
library,  his  curios,  his  surgical  out-fit,  his  jewels  and 
his  money. 

Ralph  Redfield,  as  a  boy  and  young  man,  had 
shown  great  brilliance  in  the  study  and  practice  of 
medicine.  If  he  had  not  married  a  rich  woman  no 
doubt  he  would  have  risen  to  eminence  in  his  pro- 
fession. As  it  was,  he  cut  down  his  large  and  in- 
creasing practice  in  the  town  of  Bellaire  to  a  few 
chosen  families.  These,  for  a  certain  annual  sum  he 
agreed  to  serve  for  a  certain  number  of  months  in  the 
year.  He  allowed  nothing  to  defer  his  periodical 
hunting  and  fishing  excursions,  neither  would  he 
debar  himself  from  social  pleasures,  and  frequent 
trips  east  or  west  or  north  or  south  with  his  wife.  He 


24  Jasper  Fairfax. 

always  had  his  business  and  professional  cares  well  in 
hand.  There  seemed  to  be  no  limit  to  his  faculty  of 
delegating  his  powers. 

There  was  never  a  word  from  him  of  neglect  or 
betrayal  of  trust.  His  long,  deep  blue  eyes  drew 
souls  within  his  reach,  and  one  touch  of  his  graceful 
hands  compelled  their  surrender  and  bound  them  to 
loyalty. 

As  Fairfax  reviewed  the  character  of  his  uncle-in- 
law,  he  smiled.  It  was  no  wonder  that  he  had  suc- 
ceeded in  making  that  strange  compact  with  his  wife. 
The  two  had  been  married  five  years  when  Salome 
was  born.  Their  devotion  to  each  other  was  pro- 
verbial amongst  their  friends.  Not  one  least  hint  of 
the  true  state  of  affairs  had  ever  been  given.  Neither 
was  it  to  be  wondered  at  that  Redfield  had  not  broken 
with  Jocasta.  Probably,  when  he  promised  his  wife 
to  do  so,  he  meant  to  keep  faith  with  her ;  but,  would 
Jocasta  ever  consent  to  forget  him?  After  holding 
him  for  years  as  her  lover,  could  she  find  it  in  her 
heart,  or  in  her  passion-swept  will  to  deny  herself? 

The  smile  died  on  the  lips  of  Fairfax.  The  off- 
spring of  these  lovers  had  nearly  been  foisted  upon 
him  as  his  wife.  He  was  by  no  means  certain  that 
his  aunt  would  have  prevented  it  if  she  had  not  been 
so  suddenly  overtaken  with  tragedy  and  death.  But, 
Cogswell  assured  him,  that  if  in  any  case  she  had 
failed,  he  would  have  told  the  story.  So  now  he  had 
this  problem  to  deal  with:  How  dispose  of  the  girl 
known  as  Salome?  Not  much  of  a  problem,  he 
thought,  at  most.  His  experience  with  the  inferior 
race  had  shown  him  that  submission  and  dependence 
were  potent  factors  in  the  make-up  of  the  majority. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  25 

Where  there  was  but  a  tincture  of  the  torrid  blood,  as 
in  Salome's  case,  vanity,  love  of  ease,  luxury,  display 
and  approbation  made  up  the  personality.  Usually  j 
far  from  there  being  anything  vicious  and  revenge- 
ful in  mixed  blood,  mulattos  and  quadroons  to  the 
faintest  taint  were  cowardly  and  cringing.  Sneak 
thieves  they  might  be,  but  not  bold  marauders. 
Slaves  who  had  murdered  their  masters,  or  led  in- 
surrections had  been  the  overgrown,  ungainly,  coal- 
black  monsters.  It  was  simply  an  excess  of  strength 
fomented  by  mischief-making  prating  of  would-be 
reformers.  He  feared  nothing  in  dealing  with  Salome 
more  serious  than  a  shower  of  tears  and  a  season  of 
coquettish  sulking.  No  doubt  she  would  be  disap- 
pointed, but,  tractable.  Time  would  heal  all  this, 
and, — 

"  Good  morning — Mr.  Fairfax,"  and  the  black- 
robed  figure  stopped  just  within  the  door.  "  I'm 
sorry  to  have  kept  you  waiting,  but — " 

"Ah,  Salome!"   " 

The  voice  was  glad  and  caressing.  He  arose  and 
hastened  to  meet  her.  He  took  her  hand  and  clasped 
the  other  arm  about  her  shoulders. 

She  lifted  her  face,  a  wondering  smile  growing  in 
her  eyes.  Their  lips  met  as  of  old,  and  she  leaned 
against  him.  All  her  forebodings  vanished.  She 
almost  laughed  aloud.  In  her  selfish  grief  she  had 
wronged  him! 

His  thought  was ;  "I  was  right.  She  loves  me  and 
will  be  as  clay  in  my  hands." 

He  led  her  to  a  sofa  and  they  sat  together.  He 
kept  her  in  his  arms.  Their  words  were  few.  Little 


26  Jasper  Fairfax. 

caressing  touches  were  more  eloquent  than  words. 
She  felt  rested  and  comforted. 

By  and  by,  she  told  him  how  lonely  and  strange  the 
house  had  grown.  The  servants,  one  and  all  were 
disrespectful.  They  were  anxious,  she  supposed,  to 
keep  her  in  mind  of  her  position. 

"  I'll  see  to  that,  darling.  I'll  let  the  whole  pack 
know  that  the  girl  I  love  must  be  treated  with  the 
most  kindly  consideration.  Else,  something  new 
will  happen  at  Fairfax  Farms.  There'll  be  a  sale  and 
a  few  niggers  will  find  another  master." 

Salome  answered  with  head  erect  and  brightening 
eyes:  "  No  doubt  dear,  if  they  once  understand  that 
our  relations  are  unchanged  they  will  behave  as 
usual." 

Fairfax  winced.  He  saw  she  did  not  in  the  least 
comprehend  his  purpose. 

"  For  the  present,"  he  said,  "  I  think  I'll  leave  you 
here  as  sole  mistress  of  the  house,  just  as  Aunt  Agnes 
was." 

"  Oh  yes,  of  course,  while  I'm  in  mourning." 

"And,  as  you  have  many  valuable  things  here,  left 
you  by — your  father,  this  is  entirely  proper.  We 
can  make  other  arrangements  if  there  should  be  any 
reason  for  letting  this  place  for  a  time.  That  has 
been  done  before  when  there  has  been  but  one 
Fairfax." 

"  Yes,"  and  Salome's  pale  cheek  flushed.  She 
waited  breathlessly  for  him  to  say  on. 

"  Then,  you  will  live  with  me  in  the  other  house," 
and  he  clasped  her  closer  and  kissed  her  lips,  her 
cheeks,  her  eyes,  her  throat.  He  even  pulled  away 
the  black  draperies  about  her  bosom  and  pressed  his 


Jasper  Fairfax.  27 

burning  lips  where  lips  had  never  touched  before, 
save,  possibly  her  mother's  or  her  father's  in  her 
infancy. 

She  raised  her  hands  to  resist  him,  but  he  put  them 
down  and  held  them,  whispering  between  rapid 
kisses :  "  You  are  mine !  mine !  My  beautiful,  warm 
loving  Salome!  Mine  by  love  and  by  law!  " 

"  Then  how  useless,"  she  said  laughing  "  was  that 
exposure  by — your  aunt.  She  might  better  have  left 
the  story  untold  since  we  are  to  marry  just  the  same." 

She  was  looking  into  her  lover's  eyes.  All  her 
world  was  there.  A  change  swept  over  his  face.  It 
darkened  almost  to  a  frown;  but  the  cloud  was  gone 
as  quickly  as  it  had  come,  and  he  said  with  a  close 
caress : 

"Ah  yes!  we  will  marry — mating  ourselves  as  the 
birds  and  flowers  mate — because  it  is  nature  and  love 
drawing  us  to  each  other.  There  will  be  no  need  of 
parson,  book  and  bell;  no  place  for  superstitious 
ceremony  with  ring  and  conventional  costume.  We 
are  already  bound  in  our  hearts  because  of  the  love 
we  bear  each  other.  The  hours  we  will  pass  together 
will  rival  in  ecstatic  bliss  those  enjoyed  by  Antony 
and  Cleopatra.  We  will  rehearse  the  loves  of  Paris 
and  Helen,  or,"  and  he  smothered  her  with  kisses 
"  your  own  father  and  Jocasta." 

"  Jasper!  "  and  she  tore  herself  from  his  arms.  "  Is 
that  what  you  mean?  " 

She  stood  erect  before  him.  Her  cheeks  were 
crimson,  her  eyes  were  fire.  He  too  arose.  He  was 
cool,  smiling,  admiring. 

"  Really  Salome,  you  know  we  cannot  live  without 
each  other,  and  there's  no  other  way.  You  know 


28  Jasper  Fairfax. 

as  well  as  I  that  a  regular  marriage  now  that  your 
origin  is  known,  is  impossible." 

She  stood  with  dilated  eyes,  her  bosom  heavily 
rising  and  falling. 

"And  you  will  marry  some  one  else? "  she  said 
hoarsely. 

"  Sometime,  of  course.  A  man  in  my  position 
must  marry.  If  Aunt  Agnes  had  kept  the  secret  of 
your  birth,  from  Cogswell  as  well  as  from  me,  you 
and  I  would  probably  have  married  the  sooner  be- 
cause of  this  calamity.  But,  it  would  all  have  been 
discovered  sometime.  Of  course  Victor  knows?  " 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so,"  and  Salome  covered  her  face 
with  her  hands. 

"  Somewhere,  Jocasta  is  living.  No  doubt  Victor 
knows  where.  You  see  it  was  as  well  that  Aunt 
Agnes  told  the  story." 

"  But,  Jasper,"  and  she  lifted  her  head,  "  I  am 
sure  if  our  positions  were  reversed  I  would  not  forego 
my  covenant  with  you." 

"  Indeed  you  would.  You  would  not  turn  traitor 
to  your  race  any  more  than  I  will."  His  jaws  were 
set  squarely,  and  he  threw  his  hands  behind  him.  His 
head  was  lifted,  his  eyes  were  clear.  He  looked  not 
at  all  the  same  man  who,  a  moment  before  had  been 
swayed  by  passion,  insane  with  desire  for  the  beauti- 
ful woman  that  the  law  had  made  his  chattel.  Now 
he  might  have  stood  for  the  embodiment  of  any  great 
principle  for  which  heroes  have  died. 

Salome,  watching  him,  noted  the  rapid  transforma- 
tion. Now  he  was  her  king  of  men.  Her  thought 
was:  He  is  a  grand  man!  How  proud  would  I  be  to 
stand  by  his  side,  his  equal,  his  wife.  His  face  is 


Jasper  Fairfax.  29 

darker  than  mine,  but,  the  purity  of  his  blood  is  as 
evident  as  is  the  taint  in  mine.  But,  as  an  unlawful 
lover,  no. 

She  felt,  without  understanding,  that  there  had 
never  been  anything  tragic  in  romance,  history  or 
human  possibilities,  that  might  not  come  into  their 
lives  if  they  once  entered  upon  this  relation  with  each 
other. 

"No,  Salome,"  he  continued,  "you  would  not,  in 
my  position,  stand  by  our  old  covenant.  Even  if 
Aunt  Agnes  had  kept  the  secret;  if  Victor  had  not 
known;  if  Jocasta  had  died  at  your  birth;  yet,  the 
truth  would  sometime  have  shown  itself. 

"  I  cannot  afford  to  take  the  chance  of  giving  to  my 
children,  the  heirs  of  this  beautiful  Fairfax  estate,  the 
bearers  of  an  old  and  honorable  name,  the  conse- 
quences of  a  broken  law.  Your  father  educated  you 
thoroughly.  You  know  what  these  consequences 
might  be.  Why,  I  half  believe,  that  Uncle  Redfield's 
long  talks  on  these  matters  were  meant  to  prepare 
you  and  me  for  developments  that  might  come  after 
he  should  be  as  he  is  now,  beyond  question  and 
beyond  reproach." 

Salome  stood  with  downcast  eyes,  her  hands 
clasped  before  her,  all  her  brilliant  color  gone.  There 
was  something  hopeless,  helpless,  and  weary  in  her 
attitude.  She  might  have  been  a  Christian  martyr 
waiting  for  the  sacrifice. 

Fairfax  stepped  to  her  side.  He  clasped  her 
folded  hands  in  one  of  his  own  and  drew  her  close. 
He  felt  her  shiver  as  she  passively  leaned  against  him. 
He  scanned  her  face  closely.  Was  it  a  sensation  of 
repulsion,  or  passion?  She  gave  no  sign. 


30  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"  No  Salome,  we  cannot  marry,  in  the  usual  accept- 
ance of  the  word;  but,  we  need  not  separate.  We 
can  be  the  truest  of  lovers,  the  warmest  of  friends. 
No  other  woman  can  ever  take  the  place  you  fill  in 
my  heart.  No  other  woman  will  ever  be  cared  for  so 
tenderly  as  I  shall  care  for  you." 

She  lifted  her  eyes  to  his  face,  her  breath  was  chill 
as  it  passed  his  lips.  He  started  and  released  her 
from  his  clasp.  For  an  instant  he  felt  as  remorseful 
as  if  he  had  struck  a  dagger  through  her  heart.  With 
all  his  soul  he  pitied  her,  but  there  was  no  least 
shadow  of  a  thought  of  relenting.  She  asked  of  him 
an  utter  impossibility.  She  asked  for  bread  and  he 
offered  her  all  he  possessed — an  apple  of  Sodom. 

"  This  is  very  kind  of  you,  very  considerate."  She 
spoke  in  a  hard,  even  tone.  "  I  thank  you.  I  fully 
realize  my  position,  and — yours.  Where  many — 
masters  would  have  commanded,  you  have  conde- 
scended to  plead ;  to  play  the  lover.  As  I  have  often 
said,  you  are  a  king  amongst  men.  You  grace  every 
position  you  find  yourself  in.  Can  you  add  to  your 
kindness  by  allowing  me  a  short  time  to  adjust  my- 
self to  the  new  conditions?  I'll  try  to  be  reasonable." 

"  Salome,  you  are  a  two-edged  sword,"  he  an- 
swered bitterly."  The  new  conditions  are  hard  for 
me  as  well  as  for  you.  Don't  you  believe  it?  as  she 
smiled  scornfully.  "  I  might  send  you  away,  or 
allow  you  to  go  where  you  please;  but  what  awaits 
you.  Your  story  will  travel  faster  than  you  can. 
Would  you  prefer  taking  the  position  I  offer  you 
with  some  new  lover.  What  man,  knowing  what  I 
know  would  marry  you?  If  you  were  a  plain  woman 


Jasper  Fairfax.  31 

it  would  be  different  in  many  ways.  Then  believe 
me,  I  love  you  Salome,  I  love  you." 

"  I  believe  you." 

"And  listen:  You  ask  for  time.  You  shall  have 
it.  Take  your  own  time.  Be  at  liberty  to  go  and 
come  as  usual.  I'll  give  orders  to  Victor;  he  will 
train  the  others.  They  need  not  know  but  that  we 
are  to  marry.  Then,  Salome  when  you  see  fit  to 
receive  me,  let  me  know.  Good-bye."  He  lifted  her 
hands,  kissed  them  and  was  gone. 


32  Jasper  Fairfax. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Jasper  Fairfax  was  experiencing  an  entirely  new, 
and  a  not  quite  pleasant  sensation  as  he  left  this  house 
that  was  now  his  own.  The  thought  came  to  him 
that  probably  Salome  would  offer  him  a  price  for  her 
liberty.  He  had  no  idea  of  the  amount  of  money  her 
father  had  accumulated.  It  was  mentioned  indef- 
initely in  his  will.  She  was  a  well  educated  girl, 
amply  capable  of  earning  a  livelihood.  But,  even 
if  he  could  gain  his  own  consent  to  let  her  go,  and  if 
her  father's  bequest  should  prove  but  small  for  her 
extravagant  tastes  and  habits,  would  she  work? 
Would  she  not  drift,  sooner  or  later  into  the  very  way 
of  life  that  he  proposed?  By  and  by,  if  he  should 
marry,  and  he  must  marry,  then,  if  she  wished  it,  he 
would  free  her. 

He  sauntered  slowly  up  the  long  avenue  of  beeches 
that  led  from  one  house  to  the  other.  When  he 
gained  his  own  home,  he  walked  the  length  of  the 
protecting  verandas  many  times,  feasting  his  eyes  on 
his  possessions.  It  was  truly  a  magnificent  estate. 
It  had  come  to  him  through  no  effort  of  his  own.  The 
hands  that  planted  the  trees  or  trained  those  left  of 
the  "  forest  primeval "  were  long  ago  dust.  The 
two  great  stone  houses  with  their  thick  walls,  pic- 
turesque towers,  spacious  rooms,  broad  stairways 
and  general  air  of  opulence  had  sheltered  four 
generations  of  his  name. 

Heretofore,  when  reviewing  his  situation  in  life, 


Jasper  Fairfax.  33 

he  had  the  acumen  to  see  that  he  was  peculiarly 
fortunate.  His  face  and  person,  were  by  nature  and 
culture,  far  beyond  the  average. 

His  patrimony,  considered  financially,  even  with- 
out the  share  of  Fairfax  Farms  owned  by  Mrs.  Red- 
field  was  equal  to  a  dukedom. 

His  mind  was  clear  and  active,  his  health  was 
perfect. 

More  than  all,  fate,  and  his  nearest  kindred  had 
provided  the  loveliest  woman  the  sun  ever  shone 
upon  for  his  wife.  Now  this  last  was  changed.  He 
was  so  accustomed  to  waving  away  difficulties  it  was 
hard  for  him  to  acknowledge  that  the  terms  he 
proposed  to  Salome,  and  her  manner  of  receiving 
them  troubled  him.  Prompt  action  was  his  nature 
and  his  habit.  Nothing  that  came  to  his  hand  was 
much  "sicklied  o'er  with  the  pale  cast  of  thought."  He 
too  would  have  cut  through  at  once  the  Gordian 
knot.  If  the  cord  was  ruined,  so  much  the  better  for 
the  industry  of  cord  making. 

And  yet,  how  vain  it  was  that  he  told  himself,  that 
liberty  for  Salome  meant  only  ruin  with  no  pal- 
liating features.  He  was  not  comforted  by  assuring 
himself  that,  loving  each  other  as  they  did,  the  clouds 
would  soon  disperse  and  they  would  be  supremely 
happy  together, — at  least  for  a  while. 

This  while  would  last  until  he  should  marry.  Then 
he  would  do  anything  for  Salome  that  she  wished,  if 
they  found  it  desirable  or  necessary  for  them  to 
separate.  On  the  heels  of  this  conclusion  came  a 
vision  to  his  mind  of  a  fair  tall  girl.  Her  violet  eyes 
were  like  deep  wells,  and  from  their  depths  looked 
up  the  purest  of  all  that  was  left  to  the  bankrupts  of 


34  Jasper  Fairfax. 

Eden,  a  womanly  soul.  Unconsciously  Fairfax 
lifted  his  head.  His  whole  oersonality  put  on  a 
nobler  guise. 

"Ah,  if  I  may  win  her!  But,  she  reads  men  like  a 
page  of  long  primer.  She'll  look  into  my  soul,  and 
see  there —  Salome.  Ah,  Adelaide  1  pure  as  a  star 
and  I  fear,  quite  as  far  above  me !  " 

Then  came  a  muttered  curse  on  his  Uncle-in-law 
who  had  baited  this  trap  for  him.  Not  content  with 
the  gratification  of  his  own  lawless  passion,  he  must 
look  ahead  and  strive  to  foist  upon  another  man  his 
illegitimate,  mongrel  offspring. 

He  was  still  busy  with  these  thoughts  in  the  evening 
as  he  sat  on  the  veranda  that  faced  toward  the  other 
house.  In  the  quiet,  the  muffled  murmer  of  the  river, 
stealing  along  between  its  high  walls  could  be  heard 
below  the  nearer  sounds  of  the  house  servants  rat- 
tling the  glass  and  silver  of  the  dinner  service,  and  the 
field  hands  in  the  quarters.  The  whole  house  was 
open  to  the  evening  breeze.  A  whippoor-will  in 
one  of  the  trees  near  the  house  began  its  melancholy 
cadence  and  was  answered  by  another  from  towards 
the  river.  As  Fairfax  pondered;  still  the  faces  of  two 
women  floated  through  his  brain.  The  one,  warm, 
lustrous,  passionate,  with  brown  eyes  and  a  cloud  of 
slumbrous  flame  about  her  shoulders. 

The  other,  fair  as  snow,  with  only  the  odor  of  white 
roses  in  her  golden  brown  hair,  and  her  pansy  eyes 
looking  through  and  beyond  him.  Cleopatra  and 
Galatea.  Would  the  beautiful  marble  warm  into  life 
and  step  down  from  her  pedestal  at  his  bidding?  "Oh 
my  sins!  "  he  sighed.  "  Shall  I  add  to  them?  " 


Jasper  Fairfax.  35 

He  was  walking  up  and  down  the  veranda  that 
sheltered  three  sides  of  the  house. 

A  solitary  voice  arose  in  the  quarters,  singing  a 
quaint  melody,  suitable,  it  was  supposed  for  the  time. 
It  was  weird,  solemn,  with  that  unmistakable  Afro- 
American  abandon: 

"Oh  de  day  is  done,  de  night  comes  down, 

Come  Jesus,  carry  me! 
My  po'  feet's  weary  an'  I  caint  run, 

Come  Jesus,  carry  me," 

"Oh  my  Jesus!  Oh  my  Jesus! 
Come  fo'  to  carry  me  home." 

At  the  second  verse,  a  second  voice  from  the  Red- 
field  quarters  took  up  the  melody  and  the  two  soloists 
blended  like  one  voice  and  a  simultaneous  echo: 

"  Take  me  home  across  the  flood, 

Come  Jesus  carry  me! 
Make  me  white  wid  dy  own  blood 

Come  Jesus  carry  me!  " 

Then  the  two  companies  of  slaves  joined  in  the 
chorus.  This  song,  and  it  was  a  long  one,  was  fol- 
lowed by  another  and  another.  The  night  grew 
quieter,  the  murmur  of  the  river  was  louder,  the 
whistling  of  the  whip-poor-wills  sharper.  Nesting 
birds  in  the  trees  stirred  and  chirped  as  if  in  gentle 
protest  against  their  noisy  neighbors. 

The  moon,  almost  a  perfect  circle  was  showing  it- 
self above  the  trees,  and  casting  heavy  shadows. 


36  Jasper  Fairfax. 

Fairfax  wondered  how  much  longer  the  concert 
would  last.  Accustomed  as  he  was  to  the  singing  of 
the  slaves  through  the  summer  evenings,  he  felt  this 
night,  how  lonely  he  would  be  without  it.  Nowhere 
in  all  the  world  could  there  be  just  such  a  concert 
under  just  such  circumstances,  excepting  in  the  states 
of  America  where  Afro-Americans  were  the  chattel 
property  of  the  whites.  Was  there  anything  visible 
in  these  conditions  denoting  discontent?  Re- 
formers, agitators,  fanatics  were  busy.  What  could 
they  do?  What  would  the  next  year  or  two  bring 
forth? 

The  musings  of  this  man  who  was  called  master 
by  over  two  hundred  blacks  were  straying  away  from 
his  personal  affairs.  True  he  was  conscious  of  an 
undercurrent  of  troubled  thought,  in  the  measure 
that  he  continually  heard  the  babble  of  the  river.  He 
was  still  wavering,  and  he  was  losing  patience  with 
himself.  Still  pitted  against  each  other,  were  Cleo- 
patra and  Galatea. 

But,  the  case  was  nearing  a  decision.  In  the  pure 
cold  light  of  the  moon,  Galatea  on  her  pedestal, 
marble  though  she  be,  is  more  than  all  other 
women. 

This  passion  for  Salome  was  habit  and  contact. 
When  had  he  not  worshipped  Adelaide  Francis? 
Worship  was  the  word.  He  had  never  given  one 
thought  of  marriage  to  any  other  than  Salome.  But 
now  the  senses  were  in  abeyance  to  the  soul.  He 
knew  that  in  his  feeling  for  Salome  was  no  element 
that  might  not  be  evoked  by  any  other  beautiful  girl. 

He  threw  the  stub  of  his  cigar  on  the  lawn  and  it 


Jasper  Fairfax.  37 

glowed  there,  deadening  the  young  grass  like  an 
evil  deed  in  a  fresh  life. 

He  raised  his  eyes,  he  touched  his  fingers  to  his 
lips,  and  waved  his  hand  towards  the  Redfield  house : 

"  Sleep  well,  Salome.  To  morrow  you  shall  be 
free;  but  if  allowed,  I  will  guard  you  as  any  brother 
might  a  beautiful,  unfortunate  sister." 

As  he  gazed,  he  was  sure  he  saw  in  the  misty  light 
a  puff  of  smoke  rise  above  the  roof  of  the  house.  He 
smiled.  Probably  Salome  was  burning  old  letters; 
or  it  was  mist,  or  imagination  ? 

He  threw  back  his  shoulders  and  breathed  deeply 
as  of  one  relieved  of  a  burden.  He  dropped  himself 
into  a  hammock  and  listened  to  the  new  song  that 
was  begun  by  the  Redfield  slaves. 

"Oh  de  jedgement,  de  jedgement, 

De  cha'yot's  in  de  sky, 
De  sun's  put  out  and  de  moon's  fell  down, 

We's  gwine  home  bime-by." 

With  a  mighty  burst  came  the  chorus  from  two 
hundred  throats: 

"Oh  glory!    oh  glory! 
De  jedgement  cha'yot's  in  de  sky, 
We's  gwine  home  bime-by." 

The  soloist  was  beginning  the  second  verse,  when 
Fairfax  sprang  to  his  feet.  It  was  not  imagination 
now,  it  was  not  mist.  It  was  unmistakable  smoke, — 
black  smoke,  such  as  never  rose  from  the  burning  of 
a  girl's  love  letters!  It  rolled  straight  and  black 


3^  Jasper  Fairfax. 

above  the  trees  about  the  house.  What  could  it 
mean?  Save  the  lamps  and  candles  there  had  been 
no  fire  in  the  Big  House  for  weeks. 

He  stepped  to  the  hall  and  called  "  Prax!  " 

"  Yes,  Mas'  Jaspa,"  came  from  the  dusk,  "  Dey's  a 
light  in  yo'  room." 

"  I  don't  want  a  light, — run  to  Simmons'  house  and 
call  him.  Tell  him  to  come  quickly.  Call  the 
quarters  as  you  go  by. —  Tell  the  men  to  run  to  Miss 
Agnes'  house  with  all  the  buckets  and  ladders." 

"  Yes  Mas,  Jaspa,"  and  the  slender  young  fellow 
was  up  and  away.  But,  before  the  sound  of  his  hur- 
rying feet  had  died,  there  was  a  roar  as  of  sudden 
thunder,  followed  by  a  muffled  echo  like  the  fall  of  an 
avalanche,  and  black  smoke  rose  in  a  great  dense 
cloud  from  amongst  the  trees,  and  lay  a  blot  on  the 
beautiful  night. 

Then  were  heard  screams  and  groans  and  prayer- 
ful exclamations  instead  of  the  solemnly  joyful  songs. 

Fairfax  was  horrified.  Were  they  only  frightened, 
or  were  they  injured  and  dying?  And  where  was 
Salome? 

"Oh  God!"  he  groaned,  "who  has  done  this?" 
It  was  hardly  possible  that  the  slaves,  other  than  the 
house  servants,  were  away  from  the  quarters.  Often 
they  were  all  there.  Victor,  Aunt  Sue  and  Ceely  al- 
ways slept  in  the  house. 

Fairfax's  thoughts  ran  rapidly.  It  must  have  been 
an  accident.  Doctor  Redfield  had  usually  kept  a 
stock  of  ammunition  in  his  strong  room  in  the  base- 
ment of  the  house.  No  doubt  some  crafty,  pilfering 
creature,  fancying  that  there  was  money  secreted 
there  had  searched  for  it,  not  knowing  of  the  powder. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  39 

A  lighted  candle  or  a  match  had  been  dropped.  He 
had  concluded  thus  far  as  he  hurried  down  the 
avenue,  hatless,  coatless,  shouting  orders  to  the  chat- 
tering blacks,  and  his  half-dressed  overseer.  Sim- 
mons too  had  seen  the  smoke  before  Prax  called  him, 
and  was  starting,  half  prepared  for  bed  as  he  was,  to. 
investigate. 

The  scene  was  bedlam  out-done.  Every  outside 
door  was  blown  from  its  hinges,  the  windows  were 
shattered,  the  roof  had  fallen  in,  and  the  whole  inside 
of  the  house  was  a  mass  of  flames  and  smoke.  The 
heat  for  yards  about  the  walls  was  intense.  Ladders 
and  buckets  were  of  no  use.  The  blacks  stood  about 
shrieking,  or  knelt  and  prayed,  or  lay  prone  upon  the 
ground  in  the  dumb  agony  of  fright. 

Fairfax  ascertained  at  once  who  had  been  in  the 
house.  The  quarters  were  too  far  away  to  be  injured, 
and,  as  it  frequently  happened,  the  house  servants 
were  all  there,  "  Ceptin  Victor,"  said  big  Tim. 

"And  Salome!  where's  Salome?"  Fairfax  asked 
fiercely  as  he  shook  the  giant  slave  by  the  shoulder. 

"  Miss  Salome?  Oh,  fo'  God,  Mas  Jaspa,  I  don' 
know.  Ceely  done  come  down  an'  say  Miss  Salome 
didn't  want  huh,  an'  dah  she  stayed.  I  haint  seen 
Miss  Salome." 

"Where's  Ceely  now?  he  asked.  "Find  her! 
Why  did  she  leave  her  mistress  alone  in  the  house?  " 

But  Ceely,  when  haled  before  her  master  by  Tim 
had  only  to  say  that  Salome  had  dismissed  her  im- 
mediately after  dinner.  That  she  was  fully  dressed, 
though  she  said  she  was  weary  and  sleepy.  She  had 
brushed  her  hair,  and  braided  it  as  usual  for  the 
night,  and  then  Miss  Salome  said  she  would  write  a 


40  Jasper  Fairfax. 

letter.  Ceely  had  gone  down  stairs  and  passed  Victor 
where  he  sat  in  an  arm  chair  in  the  hall.  She  had 
asked  him  to  go  out  with  her,  and  he  answered  sur- 
lily that  he  "  reckoned  somebody  better  stay  in  the 
house  with  Miss  Salome." 

She  went  out  and  ran  down  to  the  quarters.  There 
was  nothing  unusual  in  this.  Fairfax,  knew  that  the 
slaves,  scared  by  their  superstitious  fears  avoided  as 
much  as  possible,  a  house  where  death  had  been. 

While  the  fire  raged  and  the  slaves  and  their  owner 
gradually  drew  further  and  further  from  the  intense 
heat,  one  question  was  formulated  in  the  minds  of 
Fairfax  and  the  overseers  of  the  two  establishments. 

Surrounded  by  the  wild-eyed  negroes  of  all  ages 
from  the  blinking  pickaninny  to  the  tottering  octo- 
genarian, Fairfax  and  Simmons  and  Roberts  called 
each  by  name,  and  each  black  man  and  woman  called 
their  children  together  till  every  one  was  accounted 
for.  But,  where  were  Victor  and  Salome. 

In  this  huddled  crowd,  there  was  not  one  who 
would  have  been  brave  enough  to  enter  the  basement 
of  the  house  alone  after  nightfall. 

Fairfax  spoke  his  thought: 

"  It  must  have  been  Victor;"  and  there  was  a  groan 
and  a  great  rolling  of  eyes.  The  master  recalled  the 
figure  of  the  tall,  sedate,  handsome,  reticent  quad- 
roon, who  had  been  for  so  many  years  Doctor  Red- 
field's  trusted  personal  attendant.  He  it  must  have 
been,  and  yet,  Victor  knew  better  than  his  master 
what  the  strong  room  contained.  He  was  not  the 
man  to  meet  with  an  accident  of  this  overwhelming 
kind.  If  he  designed  it,  he  might,  inadvertently 
sacrifice  himself,  but  he  would  place  Salome  in  safety. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  41 

If  he  designed  it,  had  he  had  time  to  escape?  On 
this  thought  Fairfax  ordered  a  thorough  search  of 
the  grounds.  If  Victor  had  not  escaped,  perhaps 
Salome  might  be  in  hiding  somewhere  frightened 
out  of  her  senses  by  the  evil  that  had  befallen  her 
home.  Victor  might  have  deceived  her,  and  per- 
suaded her  out  of  the  house  on  some  trivial  pretext. 

Every  nook  of  the  gardens  and  orchards  and  lawns 
was  peered  into.  Voices  called  all  up  and  down,  in 
every  key,  "  Salome,  Salome,"  but  there  was  no 
answer. 

Fairfax  threw  himself  into  a  garden  chair  and 
called  Ceely. 

"  What  did  Miss  Salome  do  to-day  after  I  left  her?" 

"After  lunch,"  the  girl  answered  "  she  went  to 
Bellaiah.  She  done  come  back  'bout  five  o'clock." 

"  Did  you  go  with  her?  " 

"  No  Victo'  went.      They  had  the  pony  phaeton." 

There  was  nothing  to  be  done.  The  flames  were 
smoldering  within  the  gaunt  bare  walls,  the  upper 
floors  had  fallen,  and  a  bed  of  embers  lay  on  the  first 
floor  which  had  had  a  lining  of  stone  and  cement. 

The  mothers  of  sleepy,  complaining  children  trailed 
off  to  their  cabins,  and  the  overseers  ordered  the  men 
away  to  their  beds.  The  house  servants  were  put  in- 
to the  care  of  Mammy  Sheba,  the  Fairfax  house- 
keeper. When  they  were  all  gone,  Fairfax  urged  his 
overseers  to  go  to  their  homes. 

"  I'll  wait,"  he  said.  "  Victor  or  Salome  may  be 
somewhere  near.  You  know  in  the  present  com- 
plication of  affairs  they  may  be  afraid  to  show  them- 
selves. I  cannot  believe  that  they  perished.  It's 
too  horrible!" 


42  Jasper  Fairfax. 

He  was  left  alone,  and  he  wandered  round  and 
round  the  smouldering  ruin.  The  moon  went  down 
and  the  stars  turned  white  in  the  gray  of  dawn  and 
still  he  remained. 

He  had  searched  over  every  foot  of  the  grounds 
for  rods.  He  had  walked  the  length  and  breadth  of 
the  gardens  and  the  orchards  many  times.  He  had 
wandered  as  far  as  the  river,  and  up  and  down  along 
its  precipitous  wall  he  had  called  "  Salome!  Salome." 

The  sun  arose  but  he  could  not  tear  himself  from 
the  spot.  Oh  that  those  sulking  embers  would  cool 
so  that  he  might  have  the  debris  raked  and  sifted, 
and  make  assurance  doubly  sure  by  the  finding  of 
some  jewel  Salome  had  worn,  or  even  some  ghastly 
unconsumed  shred  of  her  body.  Lacking  these  she 
must  have  escaped.  If  she  were  only  alive,  some  time, 
some  where  he  would  find  her. 

There  in  the  morning  light  stood  the  bare  stone 
walls,  the  towering  chimnies,  all  that  was  left  of  the 
home  with  its  treasures  of  art  gathered  from  all  parts 
of  the  world.  Family  and  home  erased  from  exist- 
ance  within  four  days.  The  fire  had  so  far  burned 
itself  out,  that  Fairfax  could  stand  near  the  openings 
in  the  walls,  and  look  within.  Most  of  the  partition 
walls  were  of  stone  or  brick. 

"Ah  me!"  he  sighed.  "  Those  ancestors  of  mine 
built  well.  They  built  for  all  time,  but  they  reckoned 
without  taking  account  of  the  alien  element.  I'm 
sure  Victor  did  this.  He  may  have  determined  to 
avenge  his  sister,  and — his — niece;"  and  there  alone 
in  the  fair  morning  such  a  glow  dyed  the  face  of  the 
last  Fairfax  as  had  not  been  called  up  by  the  fierce 
flames  of  the  night. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  43 

But,  his  thought  ran  on : 

"  No  doubt  if  Aunt  Agnes  had  kept  silence  all 
would  have  been  well.  Victor  would  never,  by  the 
quiver  of  an  eyelash,  have  betrayed,  even  to  Salome, 
their  relationship.  What  a  plan  Ralph  Redfield  laid ! 
He  loved  this  old  place,  he  was  proud  to  live  here. 
He  felt,  no  doubt  that  in  the  grave  he  would  like  to 
have  a  lasting  claim  upon  it.  So,  he  acknowledged 
this  tainted  daughter,  and  kept  the  thumb-screws  on 
his  wife  for  twenty  years.  I'm  glad  to  feel  sure  that 
no  Fairfax  would  have  done  this  thing.  But,  Oh 
Salome!  Will  the  loss  of  you  in  the  relation  I  had 
determined  upon,  and  a  life  of  bitter  memory  and 
repentance  expiate  the  sin  I  proposed  against  you? 
Who  can  tell?" 


44  Jasper  Fairfax. 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  sun  that  arose  so  fairly  shone  but  a  little  while. 
By  eight  o'clock  rain  was  falling  in  torrents. 

"  So  much  the  sooner  will  the  walls  and  the  debris 
be  cooled,"  Fairfax  said  to  his  overseers. 

Even  while  it  was  raining  he  had  himself  driven  to 
Bellair.  He  made  inquiries  and  found  that  Salome 
and  Victor  had  been  seen  on  the  previous  afternoon 
by  many  acquaintances.  They  had  made  a  few 
purchases,  trifling  matters,  gloves,  or  hosiery  or 
handkerchiefs,  going  about  in  a  quiet,  leisurely  man- 
ner, and  constantly  together.  Salome's  true  history 
was  known,  and  for  that  reason  persons  seeing  her 
remembered. 

Of  Doctor  Redfield's  banker,  Fairfax  learned 
something  that  surprised  him.  The  doctor  had  ac- 
cumulated a  sum  of  money,  that,  considering  his 
sources  of  income  and  his  manner  of  living  seemed 
fabulous.  This  money  he  had  deposited,  simply  for 
safety,  and  to  be  delivered  when  called  for,  in  the 
name  of  his  daughter  Salome.  The  president  of  the 
bank  said  further  that  he  had  repeatedly  suggested 
ways  of  investing  his  money,  and  pointed  out  business 
opportunities  to  the  doctor.  This  neighborly  advice 
was  always  put  aside.  His  usual  answer  was :  "  No, 
life  and  speculation  are  uncertain.  I  want  my  girl  to 
be  entirely  free  to  do  as  she  pleases."  He  talked  a 
great  deal  about  the  unsettled  state  of  political  mat- 
ters, saying  there  were  no  means  of  knowing  what 


Jasper  Fairfax.  45 

might  happen;  that  the  South  was  being  crowded  to 
the  wall;  that  the  North  was  jealous;  and  in  case  of 
serious  difficulty  the  border  states  would  be  the 
battle-grounds.  So,  his  girl  should  have  nothing  to 
do,  but  fill  her  apron  with  dollars  and  fly  to  safety. 

Himself  he  never  considered.  He  was  always 
providing  for  Salome. 

"  Yesterday,"  Mr.  Tottenham  concluded,  "  Miss 
Salome  came,  and  as  her  father  had  said,  took  her 
dollars  in  her  apron,  and  went  away." 

"Did  she  take  coin?" 

"No,  paper.  According  to  Doctor  Redfield's  in- 
structions, I  always  changed  his  deposits  into  large 
bills  and  kept  them  in  packages,  ready  for  delivery  at 
the  shortest  notice.  Yesterday  the  notice  came  and 
Miss  Salome's  fortune  was  carried  away  by  Victor  in 
a  parcel  that  might  have  passed  for  a  purchase  at 
a  dry-goods  house.  If  the  two  perished  in  the  house 
last  night,  of  course,"  and  Tottenham  lifted  his  eye- 
brows and  turned  his  empty  hands  outward. 

"  Unless  Victor  placed  it  in  the  safe.  Uncle  Red- 
field  had  one,  warranted  fire-proof,  in  his  strong  room 
where  he  kept  uncut  jewels  and  other  valuables.  My 
Aunt  had  in  her  possession  many  old  time  pieces  of 
jewelry  that  always  followed  the  Farms.  These  were 
kept  in  the  safe.  I  think  now  that  the  two  were  plac- 
ing the  money  there,  or  they  were  removing  the 
valuables  preparatory  to  flight,  when  the  powder  was 
fired.  Or  it  might  be  that  some  professional  thief 
had  tracked  them  from  the  bank." 

"  Will  you  try  to  trace  the  matter  through  the 
detective  service?  " 

"Oh  no.     I'll  have  the  ruins  searched  for  evidence 


46  Jasper  Fairfax. 

that  they  perished  there.  I  shall  be  glad  if  none  is 
found." 

"  But  your  family  property?  " 

Fairfax  shook  his  head:  "The  poor  girl  has  been 
sufficiently  humiliated.  If  she  is  still  alive,  I  hope 
she  may  make  good  her  purpose  whatever  it  may  be." 

The  rain  ceased,  the  clouds  rolled  away,  and  no 
thread  of  smoke  arose  from  the  ashes  of  the  ruined 
house.  A  force  of  men  was  selected,  and  Fairfax 
went  himself  to  manage  the  search.  Doctors  Dome, 
father  and  son,  were  there  and  stood  with  him 
amongst  the  scorched  trees.  The  wood  of  the  old 
house  had  been  so  well  seasoned  that  there  was 
nothing  left  of  it  but  ashes.  Masses  of  burned 
plaster  lay  in  heaps,  mingled  with  what  looked  like 
ropes  of  metal  twisted  into  fantastic  shapes.  These 
were  the  remains  of  copper,  brass  and  silver  frames  of 
pictures.  A  few  pieces  of  bronze  and  marble  were 
found  unbroken. 

The  men  were  all  at  work  over  the  place  where  had 
been  the  strong  room.  Here  the  ruin  was  most  com- 
plete; this  corner  receiving  the  first  strength  of  the 
explosion.  From  this  corner  had  led  a  spiral  iron 
stairway  directly  to  Doctor  Redfield's  rooms  on  the 
upper  floor.  The  stairway,  bent  and  twisted,  still 
clung  to  its  supports.  It  wound  down  the  wall  of 
bare  stone  and  lost  itself  in  the  debris  below  the  first 
floor.  Here  the  men  plied  pick  and  shovel.  Baskets 
were  piled  with  rubbish,  lifted  to  the  lawn,  and  there 
carefully  spread  out  and  examined  by  some  of  the 
women.  Frequently  Fairfax  admonished  the  men: 
"  Be  careful.  Drag  your  picks.  Don't  strike  so 


Jasper  Fairfax.  47 

deeply."  He  shivered  and  winced  at  each  careless 
stroke. 

His  thoughts  were  bitter  indeed,  but,  as  the  after- 
noon waned  and  nothing  was  found  he  grew  hopeful. 
"  Salome  must  have  escaped,"  he  said  to  Doctor 
Henry  Dome,  his  life-long  friend.  "And  if  she's 
alive,  a  thousand  worlds  will  not  hide  her  from  me." 

Young  Dome  shook  his  head,  and  his  father  went 
and  watched  the  women  at  their  task. 

Just  then,  one  of  the  slaves,  big  Tim,  with  a  yell 
staggered  backward,  dropped  his  pick,  and  fell 
sprawling.  There  at  his  feet  lay  a  grinning  white 
skull. 

"Oh  God ! "  Fairfax  groaned,  pressing  his  hands 
over  his  eyes.  Dome  took  up  the  ghastly  thing,  and 
Fairfax  seizing  the  pick  that  the  negro  had  dropped, 
worked  amongst  the  slaves  with  trembling  hands  and 
dilated  eyes.  His  labors  were  rewarded.  Another 
skull,  white  as  chalk,  crumbling  in  places,  rolled  to 
his  feet.  It  was  smaller  than  the  first.  He  staggered 
and  would  have  fallen  had  he  not  been  supported  by 
big  Tim  who  had  recovered  from  his  fright,  and  now 
stood  valiently  by  his  master.  Only  for  a  moment 
he  faltered,  then  rallying,  he  ordered  the  men  as  be- 
fore. In  a  few  minutes  more  two  complete  human 
skeletons  were  found.  They  were  carried  to  the 
lawn,  and  Fairfax  directed  the  men  to  uncover  the 
safe.  The  rubbish  was  soon  cleared  away  now.  No 
care  need  be  taken.  The  safe  was  found,  and  the 
ammunition  boxes,  all  open,  all  empty. 

"  There's  nothing  more  to  be  done,  boys,"  Fairfax 
said  and  he  climbed  the  stone  stairway  from  the  base- 


48  Jasper  Fairfax. 

ment  and  stood  on  the  trampled  grass  beside  the  poor 
remains  of  humanity. 

An  old  frosty-headed  Auntie  watched  him:  "  Laws 
don'  he  look  lak  'is  pa?  an'  nigh  on  to  as  old  too." 

He  had  but  one  thought:  Salome  was  dead. 
Bright,  impetuous,  beautiful  Salome!  When  he  left 
her  yesterday  he  had  revelled  in  dreams  of  the  time 
and  place  of  their  next  meeting.  He  had  told  her  he 
would  wait  for  her  to  send  for  him.  He  had  allowed 
his  fancy  to  run  wild  with  picturing  the  way  she 
would  look;  how  the  rose  color  would  come  and  go 
in  her  cheek;  how  her  dark  veined  eyelids  would  rise 
and  fall  as  she  half  invited,  half  repelled  him.  Now, 
there  she  lay.  There,  the  fulfillment  of  his  dreams. 
Oh  Salome!  Salome!  Why  had  not  some  shadowy 
premonition  crossed  his  brain?  Why  had  he  not,  on 
the  rising  of  his  higher  nature,  flown  on  the  wings  of 
the  wind  and  called  to  her,  even  then  plotting  this 
vast  calamity.  "  Salome,  you  are  free !  You  are  pure, 
sinless;  remain  so!"  For  one  stifling  moment  he 
felt  that  life,  with  this  suffocating  cloud  of  remorse 
was  insupportable. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  49 


CHAPTER  VI. 

As  the  two  Doctors  Dome  took  leave  of  Fairfax, 
he  felt  that  the  world  was  swept  clean  of  all  that  had 
any  claim  upon  him.  He  walked  up  the  beech  path 
feeling  as  if  wandering  through  a  desert  land.  There 
was  nothing  left  for  his  eyes  to  rest  upon,  for  his  heart 
to  cling  to.  Far  away,  and  ever  receding  was  a 
vision  of  Adelaide  Francis.  Had  his  first  purpose  in 
regard  to  Salome  been  consummated,  he  might  even 
then  have  gone  to  her  and  won  her  for  his  wife.  She 
might  have  condoned  the  sin.  Other  women  had 
pardoned  more  in  other  men.  But,  now,  with  this 
mark  of  Cain  upon  him — ? 

His  capability  of  suffering  was  satiated.  A  great 
numbness  fell  upon  him.  That  night  he  slept  the 
dead,  heavy  sleep  of  utter  exhaustion. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  next  day  he  came  from  his 
room.  Mammy  Sheba  hovered  about  him  as  if  she 
would  like  to  take  him  in  her  arms  and  soothe  him  as 
she  used  to  when  he  was  a  child.  Her  voice  trembled 
and  there  were  tears  in  her  eyes. 

Fairfax  understood  her,  and  as  she  came  and  placed 
his  coffee  on  the  table  he  clasped  her  hand: 

"  It's  a  bad  time,  Mammy,  isn't  it?  " 

"Oh  Mas'  Jaspa!"  and  the  other  black  hand  was 
laid  on  his  head. 

"  But,  neva  min'  Honey,  de  good  Lawd  he  knows 
w'at's  bes  fo  youens.  He's  done  cl'a'd  every  ting 


5d  Jasper  Fairfax. 

away  now.  He's  got  some  so't  o'  wo'k  fo'  yo.  You'll 
see  Honey." 

"I  don't  believe  I  feel  much  like  work,  Mammy; 
I've  no  one  to  work  for." 

"  Now  don'  say  dat  Honey,  who's  gwine  fo'  to 
look  afta  all  dese  people  yo'  got  hyah?  Whah  is  dey 
any  mo  Fai'fax  but  yo,  ceptin  dese  brack  ones? 
Wasn't  we  all  done  bawn  hyah?  Don'  say  youse 
nobody  to  wo'k  fo." 

"  You're  right  Mammy,  there's  work  to  be  done  for 
your  race.  God  alone  knows  how  much  and  how 
serious  it  will  be.— What's  that?  " 

A  sound  of  wailing  and  funereal  singing  came  in 
through  the  windows  that  opened  toward  the  Red- 
field  place. 

"  Dat's  de  fun'al.  Mas  Simmons  done  let  all  of  'em 
go.  I  wouldn't  let  'em  distu'b  yo'  to  talk  'bout  it." 

"That's  right,— it's  all  right.  Poor  Salome!"  He 
dawdled  over  the  dainty  meal  his  old  nurse  had 
prepared  for  him  because  it  would  have  grieved  her  to 
leave  it  untouched.  He  drank  his  coffee,  and  as  the 
faithful,  loving  old  woman  hovered  round  and 
"  honeyed "  him  he  really  felt,  at  least,  not  quite 
forsaken. 

By  and  by,  he  sauntered  out  through  the  hall  on 
his  way  to  the  veranda.  He  picked  up  a  parcel  of 
mail  as  he  went,  but  for  some  time  he  leaned  idle  in 
his  chair,  smoking  and  listening  to  that  wailing  of 
hymns.  Then,  he  knew  by  the  sounds  that  the 
services  were  over.  Watching  that  way  he  saw  a 
concourse  emerge  from  the  grove,  pass  into  the  high 
way,  and  slowly  wend  its  way  to  the  burial  ground. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  51 

He  could  see,  distinctly,  the  two  caskets,  carried  by 
stalwart  blacks. 

"Ah  Salome!  Salome!  "  he  sighed,  and  the  pain  at 
his  heart  was  stifling.  But  it's  all  over,"  he  was 
speaking,  there  alone.  "  Mam  Sheba  is  right.  There's 
work  for  me  somewhere,  and,  I  must  do  it." 

His  work  was  nearer  than  he  would  have  guessed. 
Amongst  his  letters  was  one  from  the  district  central 
committee  of  his  political  party,  asking  him  to  be 
present  at  their  next  meeting.  They  were  in  the 
midst  of  arranging  for  the  presidential  campaign. 
The  work  had  been  neglected,  because  of  factions  in 
the  party.  What  they  wanted  of  him  was  that  he 
should  speak  for  the  party  all  during  the  summer  and 
fall  until  the  very  eve  of  the  election.  The  writer 
added :  "  You  know  the  state  of  the  country.  Trouble 
is  brewing,  men's  hearts  are  failing.  We  want  in 
our  service  men  of  undoubted  loyalty  to  the  South. 
We  want  men  of  large  interests,  men  of  ability,  to  go 
into  the  field  and  speak  for  us.  Can  you  refuse?  " 

Fairfax  dropped  the  letter  impatiently.  What  had 
he  to  do  with  politics  and  scheming?  And  yet,  if 
men  who  were  in  the  midst  of  it  all  felt  there  was 
serious  trouble  near,  was  it  right  for  him  to  shirk? 
The  attitude  of  Northern  politicians  toward  the 
South  could  not  be  mistaken;  but,  what  could  the 
North  do?  Send  fanatics  and  breed  insurrections  in 
the  South,  truly.  Cramp  and  curtail  the  rights  of 
Southerners  in  regard  to  going  about  with  their 
chattel  property,  and  settling  in  the  territories  with 
these  chattels.  That  was  done  already.  Doctor 
Redfield  had  been  preparing  for  trouble;  but,  his 
expressions  were  ambiguous.  In  the  light  of  Mrs. 


52  Jasper  Fairfax. 

Redfield's  revelations,  he  may  have  feared  trouble 
for  Salome  only.  Had  he  been  entirely  wise  even  in 
preparing  for  her? 

This  political  wire-pulling  he  most  thoroughly 
despised.  The  ranting  of  thread-bare  fanatics  had 
been  going  on  ever  since — Massachusetts  loosed  her 
tenacious  hold  on  her  own  slaves.  But,  were  the 
wire-pullers  and  fanatics  going  to  accomplish  serious 
mischief  at  last?  If  they  were,  then,  was  it  a  merit  in 
him  to  stand  aloof  and  declare  with  lofty  scorn,  "  We 
never  mix  in  politics,"  the  "  We  "  meaning  not  only 
all  the  living  and  dead  Fairfaxs,  but  all  the  class  to 
which  they  belonged.  Politics  meant  wrangling, 
managing,  working  on  men's  weaknesses,  stooping 
to  slander,  dragging  to  light  all  the  guarded  secrets 
of  one's  life.  In  short,  going  into  politics  was  to  stand 
in  a  moral  pillory,  the  target  for  the  gibes  of  enemies, 
and  even  the  laughter  and  half  believing  tolerance  of 
friends.  On  his  plane  of  life  that  was  what  going  in- 
to politics  meant.  And  yet,  it  must  mean  something 
else  below  all  this  froth  and  foam.  The  progress 
made  on  the  untouched  shores  of  the  new  world  in 
the  time  they  were  divided  amongst  warring  Euro- 
pean powers,  was  not  to  be  compared  with  the  growth 
of  the  Republic.  What  had  made  this  growth  pos- 
sible and  permanent?  Surely  there  must  have  been 
wisdom  in  the  heads  and  goodness  in  the  hearts  of 
some  of  the  men  who  directed  the  affairs  of  the 
government.  Whatever  of  trickery  there  had  been, 
whatever  of  evil  motive,  whatever  of  jealousy,  envy, 
hatred  and  malice,  still,  the  young  republic  had 
prospered.  Now  there  were  fears  of  trouble.  This 
was  the  expression  of  conservatives.  Amongst 


Jasper  Fairfax.  53 

radicals  there  were  outspoken  threatenings  of  dis- 
union, of  war.  These  were  political  matters,  albeit 
the  harmful  part  of  the  work  might  be  the  harvest  of 
seeds  sown  by  wire-pullers  and  demagogues.  How 
could  they  be  headed  off?  How  were  plans  to  be 
frustrated? 

Fairfax  picked  up  the  letter  and  read  again : 
"Trouble  is  brewing;  men's  hearts  are  failing.  We 
want  in  our  service  men  of  undoubted  loyalty  to  the 
South.  We  want  men  of  large  interests,  men  of 
ability,  to  go  into  the  field  and  speak  for  us.  Can 
you  refuse?  " 

Was  this  the  work  that  Mammy  was  so  sure  the 
"  good  Lawd  "  had  for  him  to  do?  It  had  presented 
itself  in  the  right  time  to  get  a  hearing,  at  least.  He 
felt  that  he  must  have  action,  and  something  to  fill 
his  time,  something  on  which  to  put  forth  all  his 
strength  of  mind  and  body.  What  could  he  do? 
There  was  nothing  in  travel  that  could  drive  away 
this  fearful  ennui.  There  was  nothing  to  regret  in 
going  away,  nothing  to  come  home  to.  Nothing  but 
his  black  people.  No  one  for  whom  he  cared  more 
than  for  Mammy  Sheba.  And,  it  was  for  his,  and 
other  Southern  men's  black  people  for  whom  the 
ferment  was  going  on,  for  whom  the  cloud,  no  larger 
than  a  man's  hand,  lay  on  the  horizon.  When  the 
storm  burst  over  the  heads  of  these  dependent  child- 
ren of  nature,  what  would  be  the  consequences  to 
them?  Since  he  had  nothing  else  to  do,  he  would 
work  for  Mammy  and  the  rest. 

On  the  dim  border  land  of  his  thoughts  there 
wavered  the  vision  of  a  beautiful  girl,  but,  as  he 
walked  up  and  down  in  the  twilight  he  said  under  his 


54  Jasper  Fairfax. 

breath;  "Vain  dream:  Never  for  me  will  Galatea 
wake  to  life." 

The  letter  was  answered  in  the  spirit  in  which  it 
was  written.  Within  a  few  days  Fairfax  had  com- 
municated with  the  party  leaders  and  set  himself  to 
work  with  a  zeal  that  surprised  all  who  knew  him. 
It  was  the  stormy  campaign  of  1860.  It  was  the 
time  of  bringing  forth  of  that  monster,  Civil  War. 
It  had  been  a  long  time  in  coming.  Men  could  not 
believe  the  evil  was  upon  them.  It  was  treated  as  a 
joke.  It  was  too  horrible  to  believe,  so  it  was. 
ridiculed. 

Fairfax  came  into  the  questions  of  the  time  with  a 
free  mind.  He  had  been  no  dabbler.  He  had  lived 
a  leisurely,  studious,  observant  life.  In  his  addresses 
to  the  people  he  gave  them  his  reasons  for  speaking 
to  them  in  cool,  clear,  convincing  arguments.  He 
was  not  currying  favor  with  any  party.  He  was  not 
truckling  for  place.  He  believed  himself  right.  He 
was  loyal  to  his  convictions.  His  earnestness  made 
a  place  for  him  in  the  hearts  of  the  people.  Great 
things  were  predicted  for  him.  But,  the  campaign 
is  history.  In  November  the  air  was  murky  with 
events  that  were  looming  black  in  the  near  future. 
Mothers  of  tall  sons  had  evil  dreams,  and  brides,  with 
eyes  made  prophetic  by  love  saw  their  orange  wreaths 
sprinkled  with  red,  their  veils  made  of  crape. 

Fairfax  remained  at  home  for  a  month  or  more. 
His  work  of  the  last  season  had  cleared  his  mental 
vision  in  regard  to  Salome.  He  no  longer  blamed 
himself  unstintedly.  He  did  not  believe  she  had 
gone  to  death  deliberately.  She  and  Victor  were 
planning  mischief  against  him  when  death  overtook 


Jasper  Fairfax.  55 

them.  The  mischief  they  had  accomplished.  He 
had  so  far  outgrown  his  horror  and  remorse  that,  as 
the  political  sky  grew  darker,  the  thought  of  Adelaide 
Francis  was  more  continually  with  him.  He  resolved 
to  go  to  her,  tell  her  the  whole  story  and  abide  by  her 
judgment.  Independent  of  this  matter  she  might 
prove  indifferent  to  him.  If  so,  the  world  was  full 
of  fair  women.  After  Adelaide  they  were  all  alike. 
He  resolved  further,  that  Fairfax  Farms  should  have 
a  mistress.  He  had  no  blood  relation  nearer  than 
some  far  removed  cousins  in  England. 

In  January  he  went  to  Washington,  ostensibly  to 
watch  the  trend  of  affairs  in  Congress ;  really  because 
Senator  Francis  and  his  daughter  were  there.  So, 
while  the  Capitol  was  gay  and  splendid,  while  lovers 
were  sueing,  while  the  dance  was  going  on  there  came 
the  hand  writing  on  the  wall  and  still  no  one  believed. 
In  December  when  South  Carolina  issued  an  ordi- 
nance of  secession,  it  was  made  the  subject  of  corner 
grocery  wit,  of  newspaper  jokes.  In  January  when 
there  came  the  rupture  in  the  Senate  it  was  stigma- 
tized a  fine  piece  of  acting.  Other  states  of  the  South 
followed  their  leader, — South  Carolina,  and  the  Con- 
federacy was  formed. 

In  the  midst  of  these  days  so  full  of  evil  omens, 
Simmons  summoned  the  Fairfax  slaves  on  the  lawn 
one  morning,  to  hear  read  a  letter  from  the  master. 
Mam  Sheba  he  called  to  stand  beside  him  on  the 
steps.  To  her  especially  was  the  message  sent.  She 
was  to  go  to  work  at  once  and  put  the  whole  house  in 
the  very  best  of  order.  Spare  nothing.  She  knew, 
if  anybody  did,  what  was  necessary  to  be  done  when 
a  beautiful  young  mistress  was  coming  to  the  place, 


56  Jasper  Fairfax. 

She  would  remember  Miss  Adelaide  whom  she  had 
admired  so  much  a  year  or  two  ago  when  she  had 
visited  Salome. 

The  marriage  was  to  take  place  very  soon,  but  they 
would  not  be  home  until  the  Spring.  Probably  if 
political  matters  grew  quieter  they  would  cross  the 
water,  or  go  south  by  steamer  and  come  up  the 
Mississippi,  reaching  home  by  the  first  of  May  when 
the  farms  would  be  at  their  freshest  and  loveliest. 
There  were  great  rejoicings.  A  house  without  a 
mistress  was  not  to  the  taste  of  the  merry-hearted 
negroes.  Necessarily  there  could  be  but  little  gaiety 
in  a  bachelor  establishment.  Sheba  was  in  her 
happiest  frame  of  mind.  Everyone  about  the  farms 
was  in  her  service.  Many  long  consultations  were 
held  with  Simmons  and  Roberts  and  their  wives. 
Even  Mr.  Cogswell,  as  "  Mas'  Jaspa's  "  man  of  busi- 
ness had  to  drive  to  the  house  several  times,  accom- 
panied by  his  wife,  to  decide  matters  of  tints  in  walls 
and  draperies.  Miss  Adelaide  had  pansy  eyes;  every- 
thing was  worked  out  from  that  basis.  Merrily  the 
work  went  on.  In  the  midst  of  it,  Simmons  again 
assembled  the  rejoicing  blacks,  and  read  to  them 
from  a  Washington  paper,  a  full  account  of  the  wed- 
ding of  Adelaide,  only  daughter  of  Senator  Archibald 
Francis  of  Lexington,  Kentucky,  and  Jasper  Fairfax 
of  Fairfax  Farms,  same  state.  What  did  it  matter 
now,  all  those  idle  rumors  of  war?  How  foolish  for 
people  to  quarrel,  as  some  people  were  doing!  The 
clouds  were  blowing  away.  The  state,  divided  by 
factions,  torn  by  quarrels  within  its  own  lines,  would 
soon  settle  down  in  peace.  This  was  what  the  quiet 
farming  folk  over  the  north  and  the  border  states 


Jasper  Fairfax.  57 

were  saying  when  there  came  the  shot  heard  round 
the  world,  and  Fort  Sumter  changed  masters.  Then, 
one  rainy  evening,  while  men  "  Crowded  the  road  to 
death  as  to  a  festival,"  Jasper  Fairfax  came  home, 
unheralded  and  alone.  Simmons  had  happened  to 
be  in  Bellaire,  had  happened  to  be  near  the  station 
when  the  train  came  in.  Then  he  had  happened  to 
see  his  employer  and  Prax  as  they  were  about  step- 
ping into  a  hired  carriage.  So  it  had  happened  that 
he  brought  them  and  their  baggage  through  the 
streets  where  everybody  wondered  to  see  the  gallant 
bridegroom  with  only  his  man,  and  all  the  way  home 
to  the  beautiful  waiting  house. 

The  slaves  were  utterly  speechless.  Even  Mammy, 
seeing  in  her  young  master's  face  unmistakable  signs 
of  trouble,  held  his  hand  in  silence,  her  big  dark  eyes 
brimming  with  tears. 

"  It  was  all  a  mistake,  Mammy,  I  have  no  wife." 

"  But  Mas'  Jaspa,  honey,  wasn't  youens  married  fo' 
sho?" 

"  Yes,  Mammy,  we  were  married.  We  thought  it 
was  the  happiest  day  of  our  lives,  but,  it  was  all  a 
mistake.  If  you  and  I  can't  have  a  Missus  who  will 
stand  by  us,  we  won't  have  any.  I'm  afraid  you  and 
I  are  going  to  be  rebels.  Miss  Adelaide  will  stand 
by  the  Government." 

"  Laws  honey,  she'd  had  mo'  sense  ef  she'd  stood 
by  youens  Dat's  no  way  fo'  a  man's  wife  to  be 
behavin'." 

Next  morning  Fairfax  asked  Simmons  to  assemble 
the  blacks  on  the  lawn.  He  told  them  as  much  as 
they  could  understand  of  the  situation  of  the  country. 
He  told  them  what  was  meant  by  the  taking  of  Fort 


58  Jasper  Fairfax. 

Sumter.  He  told  them  that  he  would  stand  by  his 
people  and  that  he  was  going  into  the  field  for  his 
rights.  He  asked  them  to  stand  by  him  if  they  loved 
him,  to  keep  his  home  in  readiness  for  him  to  come  to, 
living  or  dead.  With  solemn  faces  they  all  promised. 
What  would  they  not  promise  for  this  man  who  stood 
to  them  for  all  that  was  great  and  good  and  kind.  He 
was  their  providence,  their  owner  by  divine  right. 
They  could  not  understand  the  cause  of  all  the 
changes  that  he  feared  were  coming  to  the  country, 
but  their  affectionate,  clinging  natures  could  under- 
stand that  the  master  had  been  sorely  troubled,  and 
that  he  was  going  away. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  59 


CHAPTER  VII. 

In  this  beautiful  region  of  low  hills  and  wide  val- 
leys, broken  into  farms,  with  its  narrow  river  singing 
between  its  steep  banks,  the  war  going  on  seemed 
unreal.  Simmons  and  Roberts  read  the  war  news 
and  translated  to  the  slaves  so  they  might  know  what 
their  Mas'  Fai'fax  was  doing.  The  work  of  the  farms 
went  on  as  it  had  been  used  to  in  other  absences  of 
the  master.  Simmons  was  a  middle-aged  man.  His 
first  position  of  overseer  was  with  the  father  of  the 
present  owner  of  Fairfax  Farms.  Roberts  was  his 
son-in-law.  One  new  phase  in  life  on  the  farms  was 
the  plays  of  the  children.  They  were  all  soldiers 
now.  If  they  were  set  to  weeding  the  gardens  the 
work  was  done  so  thoroughly  that  Mammy  had  no 
complaints.  Every  weed  was  a  Yank,  and  it  was 
Mas'  Fai'fax  who  demolished  it. 

One  other  new  element  had  come  into  the  sing- 
song life  of  the  slaves. 

It  was  the  constant  fear  of  the  ghosts  that  hovered 
about  the  lonely  walls  of  the  Redfield  place.  If  by 
chance  any  of  them  had  to  pass  that  way  after  night- 
fall, there  were  stories  told  with  staring  eyes,  and 
shaky  voice  of  one,  two,  and  sometimes  four  or  five 
flitting  forms  in  white,  seen  through  the  windows  or 
doors.  Sometimes  they  walked  mournfully  about  as 
if  searching  for  something;  sometimes  they  sat  in 
groups  about  the  wide  fireplaces. 

It  was  useless  for  the  two  white  men  and  their 


60  Jasper  Fairfax. 

wives  to  talk  against  this  superstition,  and,  in  justice 
it  may  be  said,  the  whites  made  as  few  errands  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  ruin  in  the  night  time  as  they 
could  without  inconveniencing  themselves.  The 
women  said  "  it  was  the  talk  of  the  niggers  that  made 
them  scarey."  The  men  said  nothing  at  all.  They 
quietly  kept  away  from  the  place  excepting  in  broad 
daylight. 

As  the  anniversaries  of  the  two  calamities  ap- 
proached, in  July,  there  were  fearful  whisperings  in 
the  quarters.  Something  most  horrible  would  be 
sure  to  take  place.  Mothers  warned  their  children 
to  keep  close  by  the  cabin  doors  and  be  good;  but, 
the  very  day  before  the  anniversary  of  the  runaway 
team  and  the  death  of  Doctor  and  Mrs.  Redfield  and 
Tom,  there  came  the  appalling  news  of  the  defeat  of 
the  Confederates  at  Blackburn's  Ford.  Then  there 
was  weeping  and  wailing  and  expectations  that  the 
"  Lincum  Sojers  "  would  come  and  sweep  everything 
before  them  as  did  the  locusts  in  Egypt.  Ghosts  were 
forgotten  in  the  face  of  this  more  tangible  evil.  But, 
the  luxury  of  a  first-class  horror  was  not  to  be  dis- 
pensed with  for  a  trifle.  The  sun  rose  and  set,  and 
rose  and  set.  No  "  blue-coated  hirelings  "  were  to 
be  seen. 

The  dates  of  the  burning  of  the  house  and  the  find- 
ing of  the  remains  of  Victor  and  Salome  were  at  hand. 
Would  Salome  come  and  wander  about  the  ruins  and 
weep  for  her  faithless  lover  and  her  lost  jewels? 
These  jewels  she  was  known  to  have  possessed,  and 
yet,  not  one  indestructible  gem  had  ever  been  found. 
Fairfax  had  discouraged  the  search  for  them.  The 
slaves  were  too  fearful  to  venture  on  the  quest,  and 


Jasper  Fairfax.  61 

they  knew  too  little  of  their  value  to  care.  It  was  the 
overseers  and  their  wives  who  remembered  the 
magnificence  of  the  family  jewels,  as  well  as  of  those 
possessed  by  Salome,  who  deplored  the  loss  of  so 
much  wealth.  It  was  this  quartette,  that,  on  Sun- 
days and  circus  days,  when  the  slaves  were  all  away, 
went  on  a  "  still  hunt "  for  the  ornaments  that  would 
have  made  them  rich.  The  money,  they  acknow- 
ledged with  many  a  sigh  was  irretrievably  lost,  but 
the  diamonds — oh  the  diamonds!  The  search  was 
quite  fruitless.  Not  one  least  gem  ever  gleamed  up 
from  the  dust  and  ashes  to  gladden  expectant  eyes. 

So,  the  fear  of  Lincoln's  soldiers  waned,  and  the 
fear  of  the  ghosts  grew  apace.  Each  dusky  servitor 
reviewed  again  and  again  every  trifling  errand  that 
could  take  him  past  the  ruin  on  that  dreaded  night. 
The  work  on  Fairfax  Farms  was  never  so  thoroughly 
done.  All  was  in  order.  Everybody  would  be  with- 
in doors  by  sunset  or  soon  after. 

That  very  afternoon  Simmons  came  from  Bellaire 
with  news  of  a  great  battle.  This  time  the  Confeder- 
ates were  victorious.  Ghosts  were  forgotten.  Hats 
were  thrown  high  and  there  were  singing  and  shout- 
ing and  bonfires.  Every  cabin  was  deserted.  The 
children  danced  around  the  fires  and  giggled  and 
chattered.  The  men  and  women  were  wild; — all  but 
Mammy  Sheba.  She  sat  smiling  while  tears  rained 
over  her  face :  "  Mas'  Jaspa  done  been  dar,  My  boy 
done  it  all.  He  done  chase  dem  Yanks." 

So  it  was  whenever  war  news  came  to  the  Farms. 
Others  might  burn  tar  barrels,  wave  their  hats  and 
shout  themselves  hoarse.  Mammy  only  knew  if 


62  Jasper  Fairfax. 

defeat  came  to  the  Federal  troops,  "  Mas'  Jaspa  done 
ben  dar." 

When  the  tide  of  battle  surged  from  Virginia  into 
Kentucky,  when  Zollicoffer  met  defeat  and  death  at 
Mill  Spring,  when  Fort  Henry  passed  into  the  hands 
of  the  enemy,  when  there  were 

"  Hearts  swelling  with  rapture 

For  Donelson's  capture, 
Hearts  breaking  with  aching 

For  Donelson's  slain." 

Mammy  was  sure  that  somehow  her  boy  had  not 
been  there ;  "  ef  he  ben  dah,  all  dem  Yanks  would  got 
demsefs  killed." 

But  her  boy  had  been  at  Fort  Donelson,  and,  the 
disabling  of  his  sword  arm  early  in  the  engagement 
sent  him  from  the  field,  saving  him  from  falling  a 
prisoner  to  the  Federals,  and,  a  few  days  later  bring- 
ing him  home.  He  sent  a  message  to  Simmons  to 
have  the  carriage  to  meet  him  on  a  certain  day  at  a 
certain  hour.  All  the  bemoaning  of  the  reverses 
suffered  by  the  Confederate  army  was  hushed.  The 
master  must  not  be  reproached  by  so  much  as  a  look. 

At  the  appointed  time  the  closed  carriage,  half 
filled  with  comforts  and  cushions,  with  big  Tim  on 
the  seat  with  Pomp,  went  to  meet  the  master.  Sheba 
managed  the  expedition.  Tim  must  go  to  support 
"  Mas'  Jaspa;  nobody  knowed  how  bad  he  was  hurt." 

The  whole  force  of  the  Farms  stood  about  the 
veranda  steps  when  the  carriage  came  back.  Sheba 
was  in  the  open  door,  with  a  back-ground  of  warm 
light  from  big  open  fires.  Tim  and  Pomp,  looked  in- 


Jasper  Fairfax.  63 

expressible  things  as  they  came  into  view.  Pomp 
was  about  to  get  down  when  Tim  ordered  him  to 
keep  his  seat  "  an'  hoi'  onto  dem  hosses."  Then 
with  the  greatest  formality,  his  hat  tucked  under  his 
arm,  he  opened  the  door  and  assisted  Captain  Fairfax 
to  the  ground.  Then,  when  Sheba  was  hurrying 
down  the  steps  to  greet  "  Mas'  Jaspa  po'  boy  "  with 
his  arm  in  a  sling,  he  turned  and  with  his  left  hand 
assisted  from  the  carriage  a  tall  slender,  blonde  girl. 
Was  there  ever  such  a  wonder?  Fairfax,  meeting 
the  open  mouths  and  round  brown  eyes  of  his  slaves, 
laughed  in  the  low  pleasant  way  they  all  knew  so 
well.  As  Mammy  Sheba  reached  his  side  and  touched 
tenderly  his  bandaged  arm,  he  said  for  her  and  the 
rest: 

"  You  see  I  got  myself  hurt  a  little  in  the  fight,  t 
happened  to  meet  Miss  Westlake,  and  she  took  such 
kindly  care  of  me  that  I  fell  in  love  with  her  and  we 
called  in  the  chaplain,  and  he  married  us.  Now 
you'll  have  a  Missus  to  take  care  of  you  when  I'm 
away." 

Sheba's  heart  went  out  to  the  slender  girlish  figure 
beside  her  master,  when  she  saw  the  gentle,  protect- 
ing air,  heard  the  timid,  "  Take  care,  Dear,"  and  the 
delicate  hand  was  extended  to  guide  or  support  the 
stalwart  soldier.  Fairfax  smiled  indulgently  as  he 
said  to  Sheba : 

"Mrs.  Fairfax  thinks  I'm  made  of  glass,  she's  afraid 
I  may  get  broken.  Isn't  that  so,  Marcia?  " 

"  Not  quite.  Your  nurse  will  know  how  careful 
we  must  be  when  she  sees  your  arm." 

"Ah  yes,  no  doubt  you  and  Mammy  will  have  a 
good  tjme  making  me  believe  I'm  nearly  killed,  but, 


64  Jasper  Fairfax. 

I'll  be  good  as  new  and  up  and  away  within  a  few 
days." 

Between  the  two,  wife  of  a  few  days  and  nurse  of 
many  years,  he  entered  the  house.  Everything  was 
warm,  bright,  cheerful.  Mrs.  Fairfax  looked  about 
her  with  half  frightened  eyes.  The  rooms  were  so 
lofty  and  wide.  There  were  servants  at  every  turn. 
Ceely  was  called  and  put  into  the  service  of  the  new 
mistress.  The  faithful  agile  Prax  took  possession 
of  his  master,  and  giant  Tim  fell  into  the  background. 
No  one  dared,  excepting  Sheba,  stay  near  the  master 
while  his  toilet  was  made.  The  bride,  looking  on, 
wondered  what  would  be  her  position  in  the  midst  of 
the  devotion  of  this  crowd  of  slaves. 

Next  day  she  made  an  effectual  attempt  to  take  the 
place  with  her  husband  that  she  had  occupied  before 
coming  home, — that  of  chief  nurse  and  advisor.  She 
insisted  on  doing  everything  for  him.  Before  night 
she  was  very  weary,  and  yet  she  would  not  delegate 
her  cares  to  Sheba  until  Fairfax  playfully  commanded 
her  to  go  to  her  room,  let  Ceely  brush  her  hair  and 
try  to  take  a  nap. 

This  day  was  like  those  that  followed.  If  Sheba 
offered  assistance  when  it  was  really  needed  Mrs. 
Fairfax  politely  refused.  If  Sheba  insisted,  en- 
couraged by  a  smile  from  her  master,  she  was  sent 
away  on  errands  that  were  unnecessary.  It  was  the 
same  way  with  the  others.  They  were  allowed  to  do 
nothing  for  their  master.  If  Fairfax  remonstrated, 
his  pretty  graceful  wife  had  only  to  say:  "  I  must  be 
first  with  you,  dear." 

"  You  are  first,  but,  not  as  a  servant." 

He  could  see  that  the  slaves  were  hurt  by  having 
his  wife  continually  stand  between  them  and  himself, 


Jasper  Fairfax.  65 

and,  they  were  forming  an  opinion  of  her  that  nettled 
him.  He  felt  more  fretted  over  the  matter  than  he 
would  acknowledge.  It  seemed  such  a  small  thing 
to  be  worried  about.  One  afternoon,  after  he  had 
almost  forcibly  sent  Mrs.  Fairfax  away  with  Ceely,  he 
wandered  about  the  house  looking  for  Sheba.  He 
found  her  in  her  own  snug  room  that  opened  from  the 
hall  on  the  first  floor. 

"  May  I  come  in,  Mammy?  This  always  was  the 
best  room  in  the  house." 

"  Laws  honey,  co'se  you  may  come  in.  Seems  lak 
I  neva  see  yo  now,  Mis  Fai'fax  keeps  yo  so,"  and 
Mammy  looked  ready  to  cry. 

Fairfax  laughed  and  patted  her  hand :  "  You  see 
Mammy,  I'm  the  first  husband  Marcia  ever  had,"  and 
he  settled  himself  in  the  big  arm  chair  cushioned  with 
patch  work,  while  Sheba  put  a  pillow  for  his  head  and 
another  for  his  wounded  arm. 

"  Then  too,"  he  continued,  "  you  know  she's  a 
Northern  girl.  She  doesn't  know  you  black  folks 
as  well  as  she  will  by  and  by.  I  met  her  first  two  or 
three  years  ago  when  we  were  up  north  in  the  Ad- 
irondacks.  She  and  Salome  and  Aunt  Agnes  were 
together  nearly  every  day  for  two  months  or  more. 
Adelaide  was  there  too.  It  was  a  merry  party."  He 
sighed  and  closed  his  eyes.  "  It's  a  queer  world 
Mammy." 

"  Yes,  Mas'  Jaspa,  an'  de  queerest  ting  is  dat  you 
fotch  home  a  Yankee  girl.  How  she  come  to  be  dar 
'mong  de  sojers?  " 

"  Her  father  and  her  brother  were  in  the  Federal 
army.  Last  summer  her  father  was  ill  and  she  came 
South  to  nurse  him.  He  was  killed  the  other  day  at 


66  Jasper  Fairfax. 

Fort  Donelson.  Her  brother  has  been  missing  since 
the  fight  at  Mill  Springs.  After  I  was  wounded  I  met 
her,  and  she  was  so  perfectly  helpless  and  miserable. 
She  didn't  know  what  to  do  with  herself.  Poor  girl, 
she  never  had  a  home.  Her  mother  died  when  she 
was  too  young  to  know  anything  about  it,  and  since 
her  school  days  she  has  lived  in  hotels  and  boarding 
houses.  With  her  father  killed  and  her  brother  not 
heard  from  for  more  than  a  month,  the  poor  child 
was  frightened  and  lonely  as  you  can  imagine.  She 
was  going  through  the  hospital  to  see  if  possibly  her 
brother  might  not  be  there  when  she  saw  me.  She 
was  like  a  lost  child.  First  to  soothe  her,  I  told  her 
I'd  get  a  maid  for  her  and  bring  her  here.  She  de- 
murred, feeling  it  would  not  be  proper.  Said  she 
thought  some  of  joining  the  hospital  corps  as,  now 
that  her  father  was  gone  she  did  not  care  to  go  to  the 
Indiana  town  where  they  had  lived.  She  hoped  to 
find  her  brother.  I  felt  so  sorry  for  her,  Mammy, 
after  talking  the  matter  over  several  times,  that  at 
last  I  put  my  best  arm  around  her  and  asked  her  if 
she  could  possibly  let  the  chaplain  come  in  and  make 
her  the  wife  of  a  battered  old  rebel." 

'*  Now  dat's  das  lak  my  boy  Jaspa,  des  marry  a 
Yank  to  be  good  to  huh." 

"  But  it's  a  very  pretty  Yank,  don't  you  think  so?  " 

"  Yas,  she's  pooty,  but,  she  ain't  no  Miss  Adelaide." 

"  Please  Mammy,"  and  he  raised  his  hand  as  if  his 

old  Mammy  had  struck  him.      "  No  she  isn't  Miss 

Adelaide,  but  she's  a  dear  sweet  girl,  and  I  think  she 

loves  your  big  boy  much  more  than  he  deserves. 

Adelaide  cared  neither  for  me  nor  for  the  South.     If 

she  had  she  would'nt  have  deserted  us." 


Jasper  Fairfax.  67 

"An  yo  aint  skeered  dat  Miss  Ma'sha'll  done 
go  off  home  some  day?  " 

"  No  indeed  Mammy.  This  is  her  home.  She'll 
stay  here  for  you  to  love  and  take  care  of  when  I  go 
back  to  my  men.  Then,  you'll  hear  from  me  nearly 
every  day.  My  fair-haired  darling  must  not  be  left 
longing  for  a  letter  if  I  can  send  one.  It  will  be 
pleasanter  *vork  than  writing  to  Simmons." 

Sheba  was  about  to  answer  when  there  was  a  swish 
of  skirts,  in  the  hall,  and  a  sweet  voice,  albeit  with  a 
shade  of  fretfulness  called :  "  Jasper,  where  can  you 
be?" 

"  Here  Marcia,  come  in  darling  and  see  Mam- 
my's room." 

Sheba  stood  in  the  door  smiling  her  broadest,  and 
saying,  "  Right  hyah  Mis  Fai'fax." 

But  there  was  no  smile  on  the  face  of  the  mistress. 
She  brushed  past  Sheba,  and  looking  very  sedate  she 
said :  "  Now  I  am  astonished.  I  had  no  idea  that 
Southern  gentlemen  were  in  the  habit  of  passing  their 
time  in  the  rooms  of  the  servants." 

Fairfax's  face  clouded,  and  Sheba  looked  half  in- 
dignant, half  ready  to  cry.  For  an  instant  all  were 
silent.  Then  Sheba  mumbled  something  about 
Sally  and  the  dinner  and  left  the  room.  Fairfax 
made  no  movement  to  rise,  but  he  drew  a  low  chair 
close  to  his  own  saying :  "  Excuse  my  rudeness,  dear, 
I'm  so  comfortable.  Sit  here  a  little  while." 

"  It  seems  to  me  you'd  be  more  comfortable  in  your 
own  room  or  in  the  parlor  or  library." 

"  I've  had  those  rooms  so  long,  and  I  always  visit 
Mammy  here.  I  think  this  is  one  of  the  cosiest  nooks 
I  ever  saw." 


68  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"  Well,  I  must  confess  my  astonishment  at  your 
taste,  as  well  as  your  judgment.  The  servants  will 
have  no  respect  for  you  if  you  treat  them  as  your 
equals." 

"  But,  my  dear,  I  don't  treat  them  as  my  equals. 
I  couldn't;"  then  pausing  a  moment,  "The  fact  is  I 
never  once  thought  of  it  at  all.  We've  always  lived 
together  and  we  understand  each  other." 

"  Yes,  I  think  they  understand  that  they  may  do  as 
little  work  as  they  please,  and  in  the  most  slip-shod 
manner.  Some  energetic  Northern  man  would  get 
twice  as  much  work  done  as  you  do." 

"  Possibly,  but  I'm  afraid  your  energetic  Northern 
man  would  find  himself  a  fit  subject  for  the  agitators. 
Then  too,  darkies  are  easly  tempted  to  run  away.  Up 
to  date,  Fairfax  Farms  have  never  produced  a  run- 
away slave." 

Mrs.  Fairfax  laughed,  but  she  drew  down  the 
corners  of  her  mouth,  as  if  she  frowned  on  that  part 
of  her  face. 

"  I  see  no  reason  why  the  slaves  should  run  away 
if  all  of  your  name  have  treated  them  as  you  do.  It 
seems  to  me  the  masters  would  be  more  likely  to 
leave  the  farms." 

Fairfax  laughed.  "  My  dear,  you  surprise  me. 
Here  is  all  this  great  country  seething  in  war  because 
we  Southerners  have  trafficked  in  flesh  and  blood  that 
walks  on  two  feet.  We've  been  called  Nigger 
drivers.  Northern  people  have  said  we'd  murder  a 
darkey  at  the  crook  of  a  finger.  Now  here  is  a 
gentle,  fair-faced  girl  from  the  north,  with  a  bewilder- 
ing mass  of  flaxen  hair  and  eyes  like  gentians  lectur- 


Jasper  Fairfax.  69 

ing  her  month-old  rebel  husband  for —  undue  in- 
dulgence of  these  same  blacks." 

"Oh  my  dear,  I  don't  expect  you  to  be  cruel;  but 
they  are  lazy  and  idle.  I  cannot  see  how  the  work  is 
ever  done  either  indoors  or  out." 

"  You'll  see  by  and  by.  There  are  so  many  of  them 
there's  no  need  of  hurry.  You'll  find  too,  they  are 
the  most  affectionate  creatures  under  the  sun." 

"  Yes,  I  see  they  are  very  fond  of  you.  They 
really  make  me  jealous,"  and  Mrs.  Fairfax  laughed 
and  colored. 

"  They'll  be  just  as  fond  of  you  if  you'll  only  allow 
them  to  love  you  and  take  care  of  you." 

"  I'm  afraid  I'm  not  the  kind  of  woman  for  ser- 
vants to  love.  I  believe,"  and  Mrs.  Fairfax  laughed 
and  looked  at  her  husband  interrogatively,  "  that  if 
I'm  left  here  in  charge  you'll  find  a  different  state  of 
affairs  when  you  next  come  home." 

"  Now  darling,"  and  he  smoothed  her  bright  hair 
with  his  left  hand,  "  I  wish  you  would  just  be  idle  and 
happy  as  you  can  be  when  I  go  away.  Leave  every- 
thing to  Mammy.  She's  had  the  house  ever  since 
my  mother  died." 

"  But  dear,  what  shall  I  do  to  pass  the  time?  " 

"  Write  letters  to  me;  keep  your  eyes  bright;  your 
whole  sweet  self  pretty;  that's  all." 


7°  Jasper  Fairfax. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Time  sped  happily,  and  all  too  swiftly  until  the  day 
came  when  the  master  of  Fairfax  Farms  in  his  uni- 
form of  gray  said  goodbye  to  clinging  wife  and  sob- 
bing slaves.  The  promise  of  as  many  letters  as  he 
could  possibly  send  home  in  the  demoralized  state 
of  the  country  was  a  comfort  to  Sheba.  She  said  so 
as  she  turned  from  the  door  after  watching  him  out 
of  sight.  Mrs.  Fairfax  answered  her: 

"  I  think,  Sheba  if  you  attend  to  your  work  you'll 
have  no  time  to  spare  for  lamenting  over  Mr.  Fair- 
fax. This  house  is  in  a  dreadfully  filthy  state.  I'm 
going  to  have  it  thoroughly  cleaned  from  garret  to 
cellar.  Many  of  the  rooms  need  papering.  All  the 
wood-work  needs  a  dressing  of  oil.  I  don't  believe 
one  of  the  carpets  have  been  cleaned  in  a  year." 

"Oh  yas,  Mis  Fai'fax,  all  de  cya'pets  was  done  tuk 
up  des  befo'  Mas'  Jaspa  was  ma'a'id — " 

"What,  only  a  few  weeks  ago?"  Mrs.  Fairfax 
questioned  sharply. 

"Oh  nome.  Jes  befo'  Mas'  Jaspa  an'  Miss 
Adelaide—" 

Mrs.  Fairfax  interrupted  with  an  impatient  wave 
of  her  hand  and  a  frown: 

"There  Sheba,  that's  enough.  I  never  want  to 
hear  Miss  Adelaide's  name  mentioned  again.  We'll 
go  on  with  the  cleaning  next  week." 

Such  hurrying  and  scouring  and  scrubbing  and 
rubbing  and  dusting  and  managing  had  never  been 


Jasper  Fairfax.  71 

seen  at  the  Fairfax  house  before.  There  was  no 
minute  of  rest  all  day  long.  Even  the  children  were 
pressed  into  the  service  and  taught  the  use  of  broom 
and  brush.  The  new  mistress,  whose  blonde  head 
was  in  such  striking  contrast  with  those  of  her 
helpers,  seemed  to  be  ubiquitous.  If  an  easy-going, 
easily  wearied  scrub  woman  stopped  to  suckle  her 
baby,  there  over  her  shoulder  stood  Mrs.  Fairfax 
saying: 

"  You  ought  to  wean  that  child.  A  cup  of  milk 
would  be  just  as  good  for  him,  and  you'd  waste  no 
time  nursing  him." 

The  carpet  beaters  might  suppose  their  mistress 
was  superintending  the  washing  of  the  bed  room 
windows  on  the  second  floor ;  but  if  their  long  willow 
switches  stopped  while  they  mopped  their  faces  with 
their  sleeves  her  voice  sounded  at  their  elbows :  "Now 
turn  it  and  beat  the  other  side." 

When  the  mail  was  brought  it  was  useless  for  any 
one  to  pause  with  the  idea  that  the  seal  of  the  master's 
letters  would  be  hurriedly  broken  and  the  contents 
read  aloud.  The  first  thing  usually  done  was  a 
review  of  the  workers  to  see  what  each  one  was  doing, 
and  tell  them  what  to  do  next ;  then  would  Mrs.  Fair- 
fax read  her  husband's  letters  for  herself  alone.  The 
hungry  eyes  that  followed  her  were  unanswered. 
Once  Sheba  ventured  to  say :  "  I  hope  Mas'  Jaspa's 
well?  "  and  her  mistress  surveyed  her  from  head  to 
foot  as  she  answered:  "  Certainly  he's  well;  have  you 
nothing  to  do?" 

So  it  came  to  pass,  that,  whether  Fairfax  had  news 
of  the  state  of  affairs  at  home,  or  guessed  it  because 
of  no  news,  he  wrote  long  kindly,  affectionate  letters 


72  Jasper  Fairfax. 

to  Sheba  and  sent  them  under  cover  to  Simmons; 
and  the  loving  old  woman  was  happy. 

When  the  house  was  finished,  Mrs.  Fairfax  turned 
her  attention  to  the  farms.  She  sent  for  Simmons  to 
talk  matters  over  with  him.  To  her  questions  and 
suggestions  he  answered  that  he  had  managed  the 
place  so  long  according  to  his  own  ideas,  subject,  of 
course  to  his  employer's  opinions,  that  he  "  reckoned 
he'd  better  keep  on  in  the  old  way,  particularly  as 
she  was  not  a  farmer,  either  by  practice  or  theory." 

She  admitted  that  she  knew  nothing  about  the 
cultivation  of  land,  but  she  could  see  when  the  fences 
needed  mending,  and  certainly  he  knew  that  many  of 
the  fences  were  broken  and  ragged. 

Simmons  admitted  the  truth  of  this  but  he  thought 
they  would  better  wait  and  talk  to  Captain,  (Fairfax 
was  always  Captain  now),  about  it.  He  had  thought 
of  replacing  the  wooden  fences  with  hedges,  wire, 
or  low  walls  built  of  stone  from  the  river,  but,  the  war 
had  disarranged  their  plans  and  nothing  had  been 
done  for  the  last  year  but  patch  up  the  old  board  or 
rail  fences. 

"  Then,"  Mrs.  Fairfax  said,  brightening  "  if  stone 
fences  have  been  talked  of  why  not  go  to  work  at 
once?  They  will  cost  really  nothing.  The  men  are 
idle  more  than  half  the  time.  That  old  ruined  house, 
if  torn  down  would  build  a  mile  of  fence.  It's  an  eye- 
sore to  me,  and  it  keeps  the  blacks  in  a  constant 
ferment.  I  think  I'll  have  a  force  of  men  at  work 
there  at  once." 

"  But,  Mrs.  Fairfax,"  Simmons  remonstrated, 
"  I'm  sure  the  Captain  wouldn't  approve  of  having 
his  Aunt  Agnes'  house  torn  away." 


Jasper  Fairfax.  73 

"  I'm  sure  I  can't  see  why.  It's  of  no  use,  it's  ugly, 
and  the  land  all  about  it  might  be  cultivated." 

"  It's  all  just  as  people  happen  to  think  about  such 
things.  I,  as  manager  of  Fairfax  Farms  won't  allow 
one  stone  to  be  taken  from  those  walls  without  the 
Captain's  orders." 

Mrs.  Fairfax's  face  flushed.  "Very  well.  I  wish, 
then,  you  would  write  Captain  Fairfax  at  once  in 
regard  to  the  matter.  I  will  do  so  too.  Those  old 
tumble-down  walls  are  both  disgraceful  and 
dangerous." 

In  due  time,  Simmons  came  to  the  house  and  asked 
for  the  mistress.  He  stood  at  the  door,  and  told  her 
he  had  heard  from  Captain  Fairfax  in  regard  to  pull- 
ing down  the  ruin. 

"  Will  you  read  his  letter?  "  he  asked. 

"  No  thank  you,"  she  answered  frigidly.  "Captain 
Fairfax  has  very  strange  tastes,"  and  she  disappeared 
up  the  stairs. 

"  By  George  I  think  so  myself,"  Simmons  said  to 
Roberts  when  he  related  the  remark. 

"  Tell  you  what,"  Roberts  said,  "  Salome  with  her 
dash  of  black  blood  was  more  of  a  lady." 

"Oh  Lord  yes!  She  was  trained  to  it.  Trouble 
with  this  one  is, — put  a  beggar  on  horse-back,  you 
know  where  he  rides." 

"  Well,  I  wish  Captain  could  be  at  home  a  while, 
to  kinder  set  his  foot  down  on  some  of  the  goings-on. 
Between  the  madam  an'  the  war  first  thing  we  know 
every  darkey'll  leave  the  place." 

No,  I  think  not.  Some  few  may  go,  but  all  I've 
to  say  is,  they're  welcome  to  all  they'll  get  out  of 
Northern  folks,  'ceptin'  talk.  We've  got  a  sample  of 
it  right  here." 


74  Jasper  Fairfax. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  summer  days  lengthened,  and  yet  no  sign  or 
omen  of  peace.  Sheba  was  sure  that  it  was  only  a 
matter  of  time  until  "  Mas'  Jaspa  done  sen'  all  deni 
Yanks  totin  home  'bout  da'  own  business."  When 
the  news  was  told  her  of  the  coming  emancipation  of 
her  race  from  slavery,  she  was  almost  fierce  in  her 
disbelief.  What  could  she  or  any  of  them  do  with 
freedom?  Would  freedom  give  them  cabins  to  live 
in,  plant  the  truck  patch,  supply  them  with  meal, 
bacon,  tobacco  and  print  dresses?  She  cared  nothing 
for  "  w'at  dat  man  Lincum  say.  Mas  Jaspa'd  neva 
tu'n  'is  ole  Mammy  out  to  die.  No  Fai'fax  eva  done 
dat." 

The  great  day  was  drawing  near.  Only  a  week 
or  two  now  until,  as  Simmons  said :  "  The  country'll 
be  full  of  wandering  irresponsible  black  vagabonds. 
Only  hope  the  Northern  fanatics  will  get  a  good  taste 
of  black  labor  with  nothing  to  regulate  it  but  the 
whim  of  the  laborer.  A  free  nigger  won't  work  if 
he  can  steal." 

The  war  news  came  from  Fredricksburg.  It  was 
a  glorious  victory  for  the  Confederates.  But,  other 
news  came  that  blanched  the  cheek  of  the  young 
wife,  and  dropped  Sheba  into  her  chair  moaning.  It 
was  a  telegram  from  young  Dr.  Dome :  "  Meet  us  at 
station  with  a  cot.  Colonel  Fairfax  wounded." 

"Oh!  Colonel  Fairfax!  "  was  the  exclamation  of  the 


Jasper  Fairfax.  75 

wife.  "  There's  some  mistake  or,  perhaps  he's  been 
promoted." 

"  That's  it,  you  may  be  sure,"  Simmons  said  con- 
fidently, "  He  aint  the  man  to  be  only  a  captain  for 
very  long." 

"An'  dem  low  down  Yanks  done  hu't  my  boy  agin! 
Oh  ef  I  on'y  had  'em  I'd  make  'em  tote  demse'fs  back 
home,"  and  Mammy,  overjoyed  at  the  prospect  of 
again  seeing  her  master,  grieved  and  would  not  be 
comforted  until  she  had  him  wholly  in  her  possession, 
and  was  assured  by  him  that  his  wounds  were  not  at 
all  serious ;  that  it  was  all  owing  to  Henry  Dome  that 
the  cot  was  sent  for.  It  was  the  first  time  Dome  had 
ever  had  him  down  and  he  meant  to  make  the  most  of 
it.  Mammy  would  remember  how  they  used  to 
wrestle  when  they  were  boys,  and,  Henry  was  always 
thrown.  Now,  with  the  help  of  the  Yankees  he  had 
got  him  down.  There  were  no  bones  broken.  He 
would  not  be  lame.  He  might,  to  please  Henry,  use 
a  cane  for  a  short  time,  that  was  all. 

For  a  day  or  two  the  house  wore  a  festive  air  be- 
cause the  master  was  at  home.  Preparations  were 
going  forward  for  Christmas,  and  everyone  was  busy. 

Then  Fairfax  thought  he  detected  a  new,  strange 
and  a  not  quite  agreeable  air  about  the  house.  He 
waited,  thinking  it  might  blow  away,  or  explain  it- 
self. There  seemed  to  be  no  trouble  between 
Mrs.  Fairfax  and  the  slaves,  no  open  trouble  any- 
where. Whenever  he  had  an  opportunity  he  spoke 
to  those  about  him  inquiring  about  their  welfare,  and 
mentioning  their  families.  He  was  answered,  but 
not  with  the  old-time  heartiness.  Even  the  children 
looked  at  him  furtively,  reproachfully.  He  would 


76  Jasper  Fairfax. 

not  speak  to  Mrs.  Fairfax  about  it,  nor  to  Sheba.  The 
manner  of  kind  old  Mammy  was  the  hardest  to  bear 
of  all.  Sometimes  she  lingered  about  him  after  every- 
thing had  been  done  that  the  most  zealous  and  skill- 
ful nurse  could  do,  then,  with  a  sigh,  and  with  tears 
ready  to  fall  she  would  hurry  away.  Simmons,  in 
answer  to  inquiries  as  to  the  effect  the  coming  eman- 
cipation would  have  on  the  men,  only  said  he  thought 
they  would  all  stay,  at  least  for  a  time.  He  would  not 
give  the  faintest  hint  of  the  real  disturbing  element. 

The  revelation  of  the  fears  of  the  slaves  came  at 
last  through  two  half  grown  boys.  They  had  been 
sent  to  the  hills  across  the  river  to  gather  laurel  and 
other  greens  to  make  the  house  gay  for  Christmas. 
On  returning,  they  laid  their  spoils  on  the  veranda, 
and  sprawled  in  the  sun  beside  them.  Just  within 
the  open  window  lay  their  wounded  master.  He  had 
insisted  that  his  cot  be  placed  where  the  sun  would  fall 
on  him,  and  he  be  left  alone  for  a  while.  He  was  sure 
eveybody  was  tired.  He  would  read,  or  doze.  So 
then,  the  boys  talked,  and  only  a  few  feet  away  there 
was  a  listener  who  smiled  broadly  and  came  near 
laughing  out-right. 

"  Wondeh  how  Mas'  Fai'fax'll  take  keer  o  his-se'f 
w'en  we-uns's  all  done  chased  away." 

"  W'y,  de  Lincum  folks'll  come  an'  take  keer  o* 
him.  I  jes  wondeh  how  we-uns'll  done  take  keer  of 
ou'  sefs." 

"  I  dun'no'.  I'd  neva  b'lieved  Mas'  Fai'fax  a  driv' 
we-uns  all  out.  Mammy  Sheba  say  she  won't  go." 

"  Yas  an'  den  Mas  Fai'fax'll  jes  tak  'is  sword  an' 
chase  'er  out,  lak  Vs  ben  stickin  dem  Yanks.  I'se 
jes  gwine  to  tote  myse'f  off  jes  de  minit  Mas  Fai'fax 


Jasper  Fairfax.  77 

says  "  Yo'  niggas  git  out  o'  hyah!  Youens  go  an' 
wo'k  fo'  Lincum." 

Fairfax  could  scarcely  believe  his  senses.  Was  this 
the  understanding  the  slaves  had  of  the  Emancipa- 
tion Act?  The  boys  picked  up  their  branches  and 
loitered  away  with  them. 

"Ah  well,"  the  master  sighed,  and  then  he  laughed. 
"  Some  are  born  free,  some  achieve  freedom,  and 
some  have  freedom  thrust  upon  them.  Like  anything 
else  that  comes  as  an  alien  gift,  without  price,  it's  a 
misfit.  In  the  calendar  of  fate  there  are  no  bargain 
days.  The  gods  never  cut  prices." 

Bye  and  bye,  Mrs.  Fairfax  came  in  softly.  She 
thought  her  patient  might  be  asleep.  She  was  de- 
lighted to  find  him  awake  and  looking  rested  and 
cheerful.  She  knelt  beside  the  cot  and  told  him  how 
handsome  he  was  and  how  fine  his  new  title  sounded. 
She  was  most  impatient  to  see  him  up  and  in  his  new 
uniform. 

Then  Sheba  came  with  his  lunch,  and  she  spread  a 
little  table  and  husband  and  wife  had  a  cozy  meal  to- 
gether. When  Sheba  came  to  clear  away  the  things 
her  master  said: 

"  Mammy,  I  wish  you'd  hunt  up  that  old  wheel- 
chair, and  have  Tim  and  Zack  come  and  help  me  out 
on  the  veranda  this  evening  when  the  sun  gets  round 
west.  I  want  to  see  all  the  folks.  I've  something  to 
say  to  them." 

"  Laws  Mas  Jaspa,  youens  aint  well  enough  to  talk 
to  dat  passle  o'  niggas.  Hopes  yo'  aint  gwine  fo'  to 
sen'  weuns  off  fo'  Lincum  done  said  yo'  must?  " 

The  old  woman  looked  at  him  from  where  she 
stood  with  such  reproachful  eyes  that  Fairfax  began 


78  Jasper  Fairfax. 

to  feel  hysterical.  Mrs.  Fairfax  was  about  to  send 
Sheba  out  of  the  room,  but  he  raised  himself  on  his 
elbow:  "  Come  here  Mammy,  you  make  me  feel  as  I 
used  to  when  I  was  a  little  fellow  and  had  been  bad. 
What  in  the  world  would  this  house  do  without  you? 
If  my  own  mother  was  living  to-day  I'd  as  soon  think 
of  sending  her  away  as  you.  There,  now,  don't  cry, 
I'll  be  good,"  and  Fairfax  playfully  patted  his  nurse's 
turbaned  head  as  she  knelt  beside  his  cot.  He 
laughed,  but  tears  were  brimming  in  his  eyes. 

"  Now  go  and  find  the  chair.  I  want  to  talk  to 
all  the  folks,  and  have  them  understand  all  about  this 
new  order  of  things." 

A  few  hours  later,  partially  dressed,  his  wounded 
leg  well  muffled  in  blankets,  Colonel  Fairfax  was 
wheeled  out  to  meet  his  slaves.  It  was  a  mild  day, 
even  for  the  time  of  year  and  the  locality.  There 
was  no  hint  of  frost  in  the  air,  and  the  blacks  stood, 
coatless  and  hatless.  All  were  there,  men,  women 
and  children,  over  two  hundred  of  them.  Some  of 
them  were  defiant,  some  sad,  a  few  hopeful,  the  rest, 
old,  gray  uncles  and  aunties  resigned  and  obedient. 
If  Mas'  Fai'fax  said  go,  then  go  they  must  and  would 
without  grumbling. 

Mrs.  Fairfax  hovered  round  her  husband,  adjusting 
his  wraps,  almost  purring,  so  soft  and  kittenish  were 
her  movements.  Sheba  stood  near,  half  reassured, 
but  still  tearful  and  despondent. 

"  Come  back  here,  Tim,"  the  master  called  after 
the  big  fellow  as  he  slouched  down  the  steps.  "  I 
can't  talk  to  you  folks  in  this  chair.  Come  and  let 
me  lean  on  you." 


Jasper  Fairfax.  79 

Tim  was  by  his  side  instantly  and  a  half  dozen 
others  were  ready  to  help  him  from  his  chair. 

Mrs.  Fairfax  remonstrated,  almost  tearfully,  but, 
to  no  purpose.  Big  Tim,  a  half  head  taller  than  his 
master  stood  there  and  supported  him  as  easily  as  his 
mistress  might  have  held  a  two-years-old  baby. 

"  There,  that's  all  right.  You  don't  find  me  too 
heavy?  " 

"  Lawd  no,  Mas  Co'nel." 

"  You  black  rascal !  I  wonder  what  I'll  do  when 
you're  gone." 

"  Dat's  so  Mas  Co'nel,  I  s'pects  none  dese  boys 
caint  holp  youens  lak  I  kin." 

"  We'll  see  if  we  can't  arrange  for  some  of  you  to 
stay.  That's  what  I  want  to  say  to  you." 

Then  he  raised  his  voice  so  as  to  be  heard  by  all : 

"  It  will  be  but  a  few  days  now  until  all  of  you  will 
be  free.  You  know  what  that  means.  You  need 
not  then  ask  permission  of  Simmons  nor  Roberts, 
nor  even  of  me  to  leave  the  place.  You  can  go  away 
whenever  you  please,  and  stay  as  long  as  you  please." 

"  But  Mas.  Jaspa,"  asked  a  stalwart  field  hand  from 
the  midst  of  the  group,  "  Wen  weuns  git  raidy  fo'  to 
come  back  kin  weuns  go  into  de  same  cabin?  " 

"  I  rather  think  not,"  Fairfax  answered  hesitat- 
ingly. "  You  know  that  as  free  men,  you'll  work  for 
wages  and  have  cabins  that  you  will  buy  or  pay  rent 
for.  When  you  leave  your  cabin,  and  quit  work,  of 
course  some  other  man  must  take  it  and  your  work." 

"Oh  des  lak  po'  w'ite  trash! "  sneered  a  tall,  coal- 
black  woman  with  a  baby  on  her  arm.  "  Wall  Sim, 
weuns  mote  des  as  wall  go  an'  fling  ou'sefs  in  de 
ribber." 


8o  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"  No,  don't  do  that  Beck,"  the  master  said  laugh- 
ing. "  Listen  now,  and  I'll  tell  you  what  may  be 
done.  You  know,  every  one  of  you  whether  or  not 
you  want  to  stay  here.  You  know,  all  of  you,  whether 
or  not  I  have  treated  you  unkindly.  You  who  are 
middle-aged  can  say  if  my  father  was  or  was  not  a 
good  master.  You  who  are  gray  can  bear  witness  as 
to  my  grandfather." 

A  murmur  of  assent  ran  through  the  crowd,  and 
the  old  men  and  women  fell  to  weeping. 

"  Now  listen.  I  must  get  through  quickly.  I'm 
tired  and  so  is  Tim." 

But  Tim  protested:  "  Fo'  Gaud,  Mas'  Fai'fax  I 
could  done  hole  onto  to  youens  tel  de  jedgment  an' 
not  be  tiad." 

"  I  have  only  to  say  now,  that  if  any  of  you  feel  that 
you  have  been  over-worked,  or  under-fed,  or  in  any 
way  badly  treated  by  me  or  by  my  father  or  by  my 
grandfather,  say  so  now.  Then,  go  to  your  cabins, 
and  work  no  more  for  me,  nor  for  any  one,  as  long  as 
I  own  a  foot  of  land  or  have  a  dollar  in  my  pocket." 

"Oh  Mas'  Fai'fax!"  "Oh  good  Lawd  Mas' 
Jaspa!"  "Des  heah  dat  boy!"  were  some  of  the 
exclamations  from  the  laughing,  weeping  blacks. 

"  Now  listen  again.  You  know  all  about  the  work 
that  must  be  done  here.  You  know  what  will  happen 
if  it  isn't  done.  There  will  be  no  crops  and  the  land 
will  soon  go  to  ruin.  As  many  of  you  as  want  to 
stay,  can  do  so.  Simmons  and  Roberts  will  stay  too, 
as  managers;  not  overseers  any  more  if  you  don't 
like  the  name.  You  will  have  your  cabins  to  live  in, 
your  truck  patch,  and  your  wages  every  Saturday 
noon.  You'll  go  with  your  money  and  buy  your 


Jasper  Fairfax.  81 

meal  and  bacon  instead  of  getting  them  from  Mammy 
at  the  store  house.  Same  way  about  your  clothes." 

"  How  'bout  bacca,  Mas'  Jaspa?  "  an  old  hobbling 
negro  asked  timidly. 

Fairfax  laughed:  "Oh  uncle  Jake  you'll  have 
plenty  of  money  for  tobacco." 

"I  des  wants  fo'  to  ax  youens  one  ting  Mas'  Fai'- 
fax/'and  a  middle-aged  man  stepped  to  the  front,  hat 
in  hand. 

"  Yes,  Dave,  what  is  it?  " 

The  man's  face  was  pleasant,  his  voice  was  low 
and  musical.  His  shirt  was  open  at  the  throat  and 
his  sleeves  were  turned  up  from  his  wrists.  He  was 
a  symmetrical  figure,  all  bone  and  muscle.  He  was 
black  and  glossy  as  ebony. 

I  des  wants  to  know  Mas  Jaspa,  ef  youens  minds 
dat  man  dat  offe'd  yo'  fifteen  hund'ed  dolla's  fo'  me 
las'  yeah." 

"  Yes  Dave,  I  remember." 

"  Well  den,  aint  I  done  worf's  much  now  es  I  was 
den?" 

"  Why  Dave,  you're  worth  your  weight  in  these 
damned  shin  plasters  that  the  people  at  Washington 
tell  us  are  money.  You  were  worth  it  then  and  you're 
worth  it  now." 

"  Den  I  wants  to  know,  Mas  Fai'fax  w'at  youens 
gwine  fo'  to  git  fo'  all  wcuns  w'en  Lincum  done  tak 
weuns  way  f'om  youens?  " 

"  You  see  Dave,  Mr.  Lincoln  and  other  men  in  the 
north  think  I've  no  right  to  you  black  folks;  so  they 
are  going  to  take  you  away  and  make  free  men  and 
women  of  you.  They  say  it's  wicked  for  us  to  live  as 
we've  been  living." 


82  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"Am  Mas'  Lincum  gwine  fo'  to  take  all  de  bosses 
an'  de  cows?  " 

"  No  Dave,  nothing  of  that  kind." 

"  Tak  yo'  wife?  "  - 

Fairfax  laughed  and  his  face  flushed  as  he  turned 
to  look  at  his  wife  who  stood  close  beside  him  and 
made  believe  that  she  was  helping  Tim. 

"  I  reckon  not,  sweetheart.     No  Dave,  one  wife  de- 
serted me  for  the  North,  but  it  was  not  this  one." 

"  Mean  low  down  w'ite  trash,"  Dave  muttered. 

Sheba  was  standing  near  her  master's  chair  with 
bare  arms  akimbo. 

"  I  kaint  see  how  Miss  Adelaide  eva  done  dese'ted 
youens." 

"Ah  Mammy,"  and  Fairfax  rested  his  hand  on  her 
broad  shoulder,  "  all  women  are  not  as  much  in  love 
with  your  boy  as  you  are.  But,  I  hope  you  and  I 
are  not  to  be  separated?  " 

She  turned  quickly,  clinging  to  his  hand  with  both 
her  own:  "Oh  Mas'  Jaspa,  it  done  broke  my  po'  ole 
brack  hea't  w'en  dey  done  tole  me  yo'  gwine  fo  to 
sen'  weuns  off.  Wat  would  yo'  po'  deah  dead  daddy 
an'  mammy  a  said?  I  done  tole  dese  igeram  niggahs 
I'se  not  gwine  fo'  to  go.  An'  I  tole  po'  Mis  Fai'fax, 
yo'  ma  so.  Wat  was  dat  she  done  tole  me  las'  ting 
w'en  she  lay  dyin'?  She  des  holt  onto  me,  an'  say, 
Sheba,  tak'  keer  o'  my  lil  boy,  an'  haint  I  done  it  Mas' 
Jaspa?  Ef  I  haint,  I'se  des  raidy  to  hev  my  po'  ole 
haid  chopped  clean  off,  an'  I'll  go  an'  tell  yo'  ma  I 
done  all  de  best  I  kin." 

"Oh  but,  Mammy  you  have  taken  care  of  me! " 
and  Fairfax  dropped  into  his  chair.  His  old  nurse 
crouched  at  his  feet  and  leaned  her  head  on  his  knees. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  83 

"  I  remember  when  my  dear  young  mother  died. 
There  was  no  one  to  comfort  my  father  and  me  but 
you  Mammy.  You've  always  been  the  one  for  me  to 
look  to  when  I've  been  sad  or  glad,  and  you've  never 
failed  me  Mammy.  I  don't  see  how  I  ever  could  get 
on  without  you.  Whatever  the  rest  do  I  think  you 
must  stay  and  take  care  of  Marcia  and  the  place  for 
me  till  the  war  is  over. 

"And  now  boys,"  turning  to  the  waiting  slaves,  I 
think  we  understand  each  other.  Go  to  your  suppers. 
We'll  have  one  more  Christmas  together;  as  good  a 
Christmas  as  Fairfax  Farms  ever  saw.  God  knows 
where  we'll  all  be  next  year.  Tim,  your  mistress 
thinks  she  can  put  me  back  in  the  house,  but,  prob- 
ably you'd  better  do  it ;"  and  there  was  a  great  chorus 
of  laughing  in  all  keys  at  the  master's  joke. 


84  Jasper  Fairfax. 


CHAPTER  X. 

That  Christmas  and  New  Year  time  was  a  happy 
one  at  Fairfax  Farms.  The  master  was  at  home 
and  so  nearly  well  of  his  wounds  that  one  regret  per- 
vaded the  place  and  tempered  the  gladness :  He  must 
soon  go  away.  True  he  walked  very  slowly  and 
used  a  cane,  but  Mammy  insisted  that  this  was  "  on'y 
to  pac'fy  dat  meddlin'  Henry,"  She  knew  too,  that 
this  going  away  would  be  his  last.  Very  soon  now 
he  would  "chase  all  dem  pesky  Yanks  back  whah  dey 
b'long.  Den  he'd  be  home  fo'  good." 

On  the  first  day  of  the  year,  there  was  a  grand  feast 
for  the  black  Citizens.  Nothing  was  spared.  Most 
of  all  there  were  good  wishes  and  vows  of  perpetual 
loyalty  exchanged  between  master  and  men.  It  was 
a  day  many  times  talked  of  during  the  next  two 
gloomy  years. 

It  was  in  the  mild  days  of  the  first  of  February 

'  when  Colonel  Fairfax  rejoined  the  army.     The  work 

on  the  farms  was  managed  as  usual,  but  the  new 

citizens  needed  much  help  in  the  way  of  advice  in 

using  their  earnings. 

The  spring  came  with  its  promises;  the  long  days 
of  summer  smiled  over  fields  where  waved  billowy 
grass,  golden  wheat  and  giant  corn,  and  over  other 
fields  where  cannon  roared  and  where  the  sharp  con- 
tinuous rattle  of  the  Winchester  sent  up  clouds  of 
smoke,  incense  to  the  insatiable  god  of  war;  and 


Jasper  Fairfax.  85 

where  men  lay  dying  with  faces  turned  to  the  sky  or 
buried  in  the  blood-soaked  earth. 

There  was  no  new  thing  under  the  sun.  There 
were  only  "  battle  and  murder  and  sudden  death." 

Women  sat  in  their  homes  waiting,  listening,  gaz- 
ing afar  with  eyes  dim  with  the  pathos  of  an  infinite 
patience,  their  hair  whitening  day  by  day. 

The  looms  that  wove  crape  kept  up  their  droning 
from  morning  till  night,  and  from  night  till  morning 
phantoms  plied  the  shuttles  and  kept  the  spindles 
turning. 

In  the  Fairfax  house,  as  this  year,  opening  with  so 
much  good  feeling  grew  apace,  discontent  grew 
with  it.  The  mistress,  always  exacting,  was  now 
tyrannical,  as  she  saw  her  liberal  allowance  for  indoor 
help  dwindling  away  with  so  little  work  accomplished 
in  exchange.  There  were  grumblings  and  threat- 
enings,  but,  so  great  was  the  fear  of  "  Lincum's 
sojers  "  not  one  of  the  women  left  the  house.  Sheba 
counselled  patience. 

"  Des  wait,"  she  would  say,  "  Des  wait.  Long  in 
de  fall  it'll  be  all  right.  Mis  Fai'fax'll  hev  somefin 
elts  to  tink  'bout  den,  an'  she'll  be  mos'  usen  to 
weuns.  Youens  des  'have  yo'se'fs,  an'  see  if  Mammy 
aint  right." 

It  came  to  pass  as  Sheba  had  prophecied.  "Along 
in  the  fall "  a  little  girl  baby  came  to  keep  Mrs.  Fair- 
fax dependent  and  helpless  for  a  while  and  smoothe 
away  hard  thoughts  from  the  minds  of  her  servants. 
At  first  the  little  one  seemed  bound  to  be  but  one 
more  element  of  discord.  The  expectant  mother 
made  inquiries  of  Doctor  Dome  pere,  in  regard  to  a 
nurse. 


86  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"Why,  bless  your  heart,  Mrs.  Fairfax,  where's 
Sheba? " 

"  But  I  must  have  a  white  nurse." 

"  My  dear  madam,  I've  no  idea  where  you'd  find 
a  white  nurse.  I  never  saw  one  south  of  Mason  and 
Dixon's  line." 

"  Couldn't  one  be  sent  for?  " 

Doctor  Dome  smiled  and  shook  his  head. 

"  If  you  care  to  try ; — you  know  the  state  of  the 
country; — the  women  in  the  North  find  something 
great  and  grand  in  braving  the  possibilities  of  long 
marches,  starvation,  insults  from  vagabonds  of  both 
sections,  and  a  hundred  nameless  evils  for  the  sake  of 
the  boys  in  blue.  But,  this  matter  of  yours  is  an  old 
story.  If  you  know  a  white  nurse  who  is  personally 
devoted  to  you,  it  would  be  pleasant  to  have  her." 

"I  don't  know  any  of  any  kind." 

"  Well,  there's  no  better  nurse  in  the  state  of  Ken- 
tucky nor  out  of  it,  than  Sheba." 

"  But  she's  wholly  uneducated.  She  doesn't  even 
read." 

"  So  much  the  better.  She  has  no  theories  of  her 
own.  She's  obedient  to  the  orders  of  her  superior 
officer — the  physician  in  charge,  and  to  the  symptoms 
of  her  patient.  She's  had  no  books  to  destroy  her 
instinct." 

When  the  baby  came  Doctor  Dome  installed  Sheba 
as  nurse  for  mother  and  child  as  she  had  been  for  the 
little  one's  father  and  grandmother.  Further,  the 
doctor  enacting  the  role  of  the  greatest  tyrant  of  his 
tyrannical  class,  declared  that  Mrs.  Fairfax  must  not 
only  yield  him  unquestioning  obedience,  but  that  she 


Jasper  Fairfax.  87 

must  not  dispute  Sheba's  care  by  so  much  as  the 
movement  of  an  eye-lash. 

There  was  great  regret  in  the  quarters  when  Sheba 
reported  the  arrival  of  a  plump  little  daughter.  The 
general  exclamation  was:  "  Sech  a  pity!  It  caint  be 
named  Jaspa! "  When  Sheba  told  her  mistress  of 
this,  she  was  greatly  astonished  to  see  Mrs.  Fairfax 
fondle  the  tiny  hands  and,  then,  without  lifting  her 
eyes  say  gently: 

"  Mama's  wee  girl  can't  have  her  father's  name, 
but  she  can  be  named  for  the  beautiful  grandmother 
down  in  the  parlor.  Her  name  will  be  Zoe." 

So  in  due  time  came  Dr.  Ballantyne  and  his  sweet- 
faced  wife.  Doctor  Dome  and  his  wife  and  a  few 
other  friends  to  see  the  little  daughter  of  the  house  of 
Fairfax  christened  Zoe  Westlake.  The  wide  fire- 
places were  heaped  with  blazing  logs  making  the  air 
like  summer.  The  mellow  October  sunshine  poured 
in  at  the  long  windows  and  idealized  all  that  it 
touched. 

Mrs.  Fairfax  had  not  disdained  the  services  of  big 
Tim,  but  laughingly  allowed  him  to  carry  her  from 
her  room  and  place  her  in  her  invalid's  chair  near  the 
fire.  She  looked  all  sweet,  gentle  womanliness  in  her 
soft  lace-trimmed  gown.  There  was  a  shimmer  of 
pink  on  her  cheeks,  and  Sheba  said  to  the  doctor; 
"  Ef  Mas  Jaspa  on'y  see  Missy  now,  he'd  know  who 
done  tuk  ca'  o'  huh." 

"  Yes  indeed  Sheba,  you  and  I  beat  the  world." 

All  the  blacks  were  crowded  into  the  halls,  the  door 
ways,  and  the  lower  end  of  the  long  parlors.  When 
everything  was  in  readiness,  Sheba  came  in  with  the 


88  Jasper  Fairfax. 

baby,  clothed  in  the  baptismal  robe  of  costly  lace  that 
had  done  duty  for  its  father  and  its  grandfather. 

After  the  baptismal  service  Dr.  Ballantyne  read  the 
prayer  to  be  used  "in  time  of  war  and  tumults." 
There  had  been  no  word  in  the  simple  ceremony 
about  the  absent  father,  but  now  there  were  sobs 
from  the  servants,  and  tears  filled  the  eyes  of  their 
mistress. 

For  weeks  and  months  the  people  of  Fairfax  Farms 
had  followed  with  the  patience  and  hope  born  of  the 
times,  the  movements  of  Lee's  army.  Wherever  Lee 
was,  there  was  the  master.  The  letters  that  came 
were  loving,  hopeful,  inspiring.  Those  to  Sheba 
were  full  of  the  kindliest  thoughts  for  the  faithful 
servant,  and  of  exhortations  in  regard  to  his  wife. 
"  I  know  you'll  be  kind  to  my  dear  girl,  Mammy. 
You  are  so  patient,  so  reasonable.  You  were  always 
so  good  to  me.  When  I,  almost  a  baby,  had  no 
mother,  what  would  have  become  of  me  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  you  Mammy?  My  darling  wife  is  young. 
She  knows  nothing  of  home  life.  I  know  if  you  have 
the  care  of  her  she  will  be  well  and  strong  in  due  time. 
Then,  what  a  happy  coming  home  there  will  be  for 
me  when  this  cruel  war  is  over." 

There  was  "  no  possibility  now  of  a  furlough,"  he 
wrote  his  wife,  "  excepting  a  Yankee  bullet  or 
bayonet  earns  me  one;  but,  I  believe  your  prayers 
are  shielding  me.  In  the  thickest  of  battles,  nothing 
touches  me.  My  brave  men  fall  around  me  like  flies 
when  the  frost  comes;  I  go  unscathed.  For  your 
sake,  dear,  and  for  our  precious  little  daughter  I  am 
glad  this  is  so.  But,  what  a  land  of  mourning  is  my 
beloved  South!  What  wailing  there  must  be  too  in 


Jasper  Fairfax.  89 

the  states  that  forced  this  quarrel  upon  us!  Be 
patient  and  brave  darling.  Teach  the  little  one  to 
know  my  face.  God  knows  if  ever  she  will  see  more 
than  the  pictures  you  have.  Tell  me  how  she  looks. 
Has  she  your  blue  blue  eyes,  or  are  they  the  Fairfax 
gray?  In  either  case  they  are  most  precious;  the  blue 
for  her  sweet  mother's  sake,  the  grey  for  the  uniform 
I  wear." 

After  this  letter,  when  Zoe  was  but  a  few  weeks  old 
there  was  silence.  What  it  meant  could  be  partially 
guessed  by  the  news  that  a  part  of  Lee's  army  had 
been  captured  by  Meade  on  the  Rappahannock. 
After  weeks  of  suspense  came  a  long  delayed  letter 
from  a  hospital  attendant.  Colonel  Fairfax  was 
seriously  wounded  and  a  prisoner.  Then  silence 
again  for  weeks. 

In  this  time  of  sorrow  Mrs.  Fairfax  learned  to 
know  her  nurse,  and  through  her,  the  rest  of  the  serv- 
ants. As  she  lay  sleepless  through  the  long  nights, 
it  was  Sheba's  hands  that  passed  over  her  hair  and 
about  her  shoulders  with  the  touch  one  uses  when 
soothing  a  troubled  child.  It  was  Sheba  who  would 
not  allow  her  to  give  way  to  her  fears  because  it  would 
make  "  de  deah  HI  baby  sick."  It  was  Sheba  who 
knelt  by  her  bed  and  asked  "  de  deah  Lawd  to  sen' 
home  Mas'  Jaspa,  even  ef  he  had  to  kill  all  dem  Yanks 
an'  all  de  niggahs."  For  herself  she  was  "  done  raidy 
fo'  to  go  ef  'e  wanted  huh.  Jes  sen'  'long  de  chayot, 
but  please  Lawd  don'  fo'git  to  sen'  somebody  to  tek 
ca'  o'  Missy  an'  de  HI  baby." 

Mrs.  Fairfax  all  unused  to  such  childish  confidence 
in  prayer  and  such  unswerving  devotion  to  the  master 
and  his  family,  learned  many  lessons  while  in  her 


9O  Jasper  Fairfax. 

semi-Invalid  condition  with  this  terrible  uncertainty, 
like  a  great  cloud  upon  her.  After  many  weeks  of 
suspense,  there  came  a  letter  from  Colonel  Fairfax 
himself.  He  was  but  just  able  to  write,  and  still  a 
prisoner.  After  this,  letters  were  frequent,  but,  would 
he  never  be  free?  It  was  months  before  there  was  a 
possibility  of  an  exchange,  then,  one  day  Dave  had 
been  to  Bellaire  and  somebody  there  had  a  telegram. 
There  had  been  an  exchange  of  prisoners.  He  came 
up  the  drive  waving  his  hat  and  shouting.  It  was 
about  noon.  The  quarters  were  full  of  the  field  hands 
at  dinner.  They  poured  out  and  swarmed  up  about 
the  house.  Mrs.  Fairfax  came  out  with  Zoe  in  her 
arms.  Dave  caught  the  baby,  and  setting  her  on  his 
shoulder  danced  and  capered  about  while  he  told  her 
that  her  "  Daddy  done  kick  down  dat  Yankee  jail  an' 
'e  was  out  wid  'is  sword  an'  'is  gun  an'  'is  bay'net  des 
stickin'  dem  Yanks  til  dey  squeel." 

Zoe  clapped  her  hands  and  laughed  because  of  the 
noise,  and  she  was  voted  "  Daddy's  own  HI  gal.  Co'se 
she  knows  w'at  weuns  say." 

Then  came  news  of  battles,  fierce  and  long.  Two 
horrible  days  in  the  Wilderness,  and  a  few  days  later 
the  carnival  of  death  at  Spottsylvania.  All  through 
the  year  there  was  only  waiting  for  war  news,  and 
then  weeping  and  mourning  afterwards. 

Mrs.  Fairfax,  growing  more  in  sympathy  with  her 
servants  through  their  devotion  to  her  husband  and 
their  love  for  her  baby  for  its  father's  sake,  found  there 
was  one  point  upon  which  they  could  agree.  This 
was  the  garnering  of  everything  that  the  farms 
produced  most  carefully,  doleing  out  the  very  smal- 
lest possible  quantity  for  home  necessities,  and  send- 


Jasper  Fairfax.  9! 

ing  all  the  surplus  directly  to  Colonel  Fairfax,  to  be 
distributed  as  he  saw  fit.  There  was  no  thought  of 
barter  or  sale.  When  Simmons  mentioned  the 
enormous  prices  that  might  be  obtained  his  mistress 
answered:  "I  cannot  do  that.  My  husband's  cause 
is  mine.  His  people  are  my  people.  If  he  comes 
home,  no  matter  how  the  war  ends,  I  want  no  long 
purse  to  give  him,  no  fine  dresses  and  jewels  to  flaunt 
in  his  eyes  and  say,  'here  is  this  price  of  our  country's 
necessities.'  If  he  doesn't  come  home  we  can  feel 
that  we  did  all  we  could  to  help  him." 

Then  Simmons  said  to  his  son-in-law;  "By  George 
the  Madam  aint  such  a  mud-sill  after  all." 

Such  rigid  economy  as  was  practiced  had  never 
been  dreamed  of  on  Fairfax  Farms.  But,  there  was 
no  grumbling  about  it.  When  Mrs.  Fairfax  gave 
orders  for  her  own  frugal  meals,  no  better  than  they 
had  in  the  quarters,  and  Sally  looked  her  remon- 
strance, the  answer  was :  "  I  hope  Sally  that  the 
master  and  his  brave  men  have  as  good  and  enough 
of  it." 

One  day  Mrs.  Fairfax  was  attracted  to  the  door  by 
the  laughter  and  shouting  of  the  black  children  on 
the  veranda.  They  had  little  Zoe  in  their  midst  on  a 
gay  blanket  spread  on  the  floor.  The  children  were 
squatted  or  sprawled  all  around  her,  and  one  of  them 
had  given  her  a  piece  of  hoe  cake.  Baby  fashion  she 
filled  her  mouth  with  it.  Then  seeing  her  crowd  of 
attendants  laugh  and  shout  and  clap  their  hands,  she 
laughed  too,  and  crowed  and  sputtered  and  rolled 
over  and  over.  Her  mother  caught  her  up  and  cares- 
sed her  rapturously.  "  She's  papa's  own  little  darling! 


92  Jasper  Fairfax. 

She  can  eat  hoe  cake  as  well  as  mama  and  all  the 
rest!" 

The  autumn  passed  and  the  winter.  When  the 
news  came  that  Lee  was  in  command  of  the  Con- 
federate army,  then  there  were  bon-fires  and  re- 
joicings at  Fairfax  Farms.  "  Now  Mas'  Jaspa 
would  hev  a  fai'  show.  The  wa'  would  soon  be 
ovah."  So  it  was,  but  not  in  the  way  these  devoted 
servants  expected.  Disaster  and  defeat  followed 
each  other  thick  and  fast.  The  Cause  for  which 
mountains  of  treasure  had  been  lavished,  for  which 
rivers  of  blood  had  been  spilled,  for  which  the  light  of 
innumerable  homes  had  been  quenched,  was  lost 
All  along  the  lines  of  the  tide  of  war  the  land  was 
enriched  by  the  blood  of  patriots — patriots,  whether 
they  wore  the  blue  or  the  gray.  Whatever  may  be 
the  faults  of  the  leaders,  whatever  may  be  the  sins  of 
demagogues,  whatever  blunders  of  ambitious  polit- 
icians plunge  a  country  into  war,  the  rank  and  file  of 
armies,  the  men  who  leave  their  ploughs  and  work- 
shops and  send  home  badly  spelled  letters  to  wife  or 
sweetheart,  these  are  the  patriots;  these  die  for  the 
cause  they  believe  in.  With  them  their  country  is 
always  right.  These  are  the  heroes. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  93 


CHAPTER  XL 

One  fair  day  in  June,  after  an  absence  of  two  and 
one  half  years,  Jasper  Fairfax  came  home.  What 
changes  had  grown  about  him!  But,  he  declared 
that  the  most  wonderful  new  element  in  his  sur- 
roundings was  Baby  Zoe.  When  she  was  put  into 
his  arms  the  tears  started  in  his  eyes. 

"  How  strange  it  is !  "  he  said.  "  While  I  was 
away,  though  I  remembered  even  in  my  dreams  the 
fair-haired  girl  who  had  kissed  me  good-bye  and  who 
wrote  me  such  bracing  letters,  yet,  it  never  seemed  a 
reality  that  she  was  here  to  stay.  Now  here  is  an- 
other pair  of.  blue  eyes,  smiling  at  me,  and  the  little 
miracle  to  whom  they  belong,  calls  me  'Papa,'  with  a 
bashful,  half  doubtful  air.  Ah  she's  so  sweet,  and  so 
white  and  so — like  her  mother!  It's  good  to  be  home 
again!  Good  to  know  the  carnage  is  ended,  even  if 
our  Cause  is  lost.  There  are  many  scars  of  the  war 
that  only  time  can  efface,  changes  that  it  will  require 
generations  to  outgrow." 

In  this  quiet  out-of-the-way  neighborhood  there 
were  fewer  changes  than  in  parts  of  the  South  that 
had  been  at  the  mercy  of  the  soldiery,  or  where  bat- 
tles had  been  waged.  Here  farms  showed  that  the 
eye  of  the  master  had  been  withdrawn.  Repairs 
were  needed,  but  there  was  no  money.  Nothing 
could  be  'done  until  after  the  harvesting  of  the 
season's  crops.  It  was  a  time  of  apathetic  waiting. 

Fairfax  often  recalled  the  remark  of  Dr.  Henry 


94  Jasper  Fairfax. 

Dome  as  they  met  the  first  time  after  being  'mustered 
out'.  The  eyes  of  the  young  surgeon  were  half 
sad,  half  smiling  as  he  slapped  his  friend's  shoulder, 
exclaming:  "  Colonel,  we're  out  of  a  job." 

The  whole  country  was  out  of  a  job.  "  But,"  Fair- 
fax would  say  to  himself  and  others,  "  We  made  a 
good  fight.  We'll  be  rebels  now  for  all  time.  If  we 
had  succeeded,  we'd  have  been  patriots.  We  had 
the  worst  of  the  war  by  having  the  enemy  within  our 
gates.  The  Northern  states  were  not  over-run  as 
ours  were,  their  defenceless  women  were  not  sub- 
jected to  the  indignities  that  ours  were.  But,  we 
peopled  their  graveyards,  besides  fertilizing  many  a 
Southern  spot  with  their  dearest  and  best.  They've 
got  our  darkies,  and  first  thing  we  know,  I  reckon 
they'll  make  voters  of  them.  I  wish  them  joy." 

After  the  stirring  life  of  camp  and  field,  Fairfax 
felt  that  he  could  never  go  back  to  the  dolce  far  niente 
of  ante  bellum  days.  He  might  be  undecided  for  a 
time  in  finding  where  to  pick  up  the  lost  threads  of 
civil  life  but,  he  would  find  them.  He  surveyed  his 
farms  with  Simmons,  and  talked  over  the  matter  of 
improvements.  Then,  there  were  always  Marcia  and 
Baby  to  be  glad  to  see  him  in  the  house.  There  were 
many  things  needing  to  be  done,  but,  money,  money, 
nothing  could  be  done  without  money,  and  there  was 
no  money  in  the  country.  Somebody  ought  to  make 
a  business  of  supplying  money  to  their  neighbors. 
There  was  Tottenham's  bank,  but, —  After  con- 
sultations with  farm  neighbors  and  business  and 
professional  friends  in  Bellaire,  Fairfax  concluded 
that  as  soon  as  the  matter  could  be  arranged  he  would 
go  into  banking.  He  said:  "As  a  family  man,  it  isn't 


Jasper  Fairfax.  95 

dignified  to  be  idle.  I've  called  myself  a  farmer,  but, 
Simmons  takes  the  actualities  off  my  hands,  and  I'm 
willing.  I  have  no  profession,  nor  do  I  want  one. 
I'll  try  business,  and  I  believe,  after  a  time,  I'll  fit  into 
the  harness.  This  one  thing  I'm  determined  upon: 
Whoever  is  associated  with  me  in  banking  must  agree 
to  be  satisfied  with  very  ordinary  salaries.  Our  loans 
will  be  to  old  friends  and  neighbors.  There  will  be 
no  fleecing." 

It  came  to  pass  that  the  benevolent  banking  project 
was  nearer  materialization  than  its  most  ardent  sup- 
porters dreamed.  It  was  the  close  of  a  warm  day  in 
August.  A  light  breeze  swept  down  from  the  hills 
beyond  the  river  bringing  the  odor  of  woods  and 
water  with  it,  and  it  loitered  over  the  levels.  Fairfax 
sat  with  his  wife  on  the  veranda.  Near  them  Sheba 
swung  Zoe  in  a  hammock  and  crooned  a  lullaby. 

They  heard  the  creak  of  the  big  gate,  and  then  the 
clatter  of  wheels  on  the  drive.  A  light  buggy  car- 
rying a  tall,  very  blonde  man  and  a  black  driver 
stopped  at  the  steps. 

Mrs.  Fairfax,  with  the  breathless  exclamation: 
"Why  it's  George!"  flew  down  to  meet  them,  and 
was  clasped  in  her  brother's  arms. 

"  The  same  pretty  sister,  after  all  these  years,"  he 
said  as  he  held  her  at  arm's  length  after  the  first 
embrace.  "  You  make  me  forget  time  entirely." 

"  Dear,"  she  said  turning  to  her  husband  who  had 
followed  her,  "this  is  brother  of  whom  I  told  you, 
and  who  we  supposed  killed  and  buried  amongst  the 
unidentified  at  Mill  Springs." 

There  was  handshaking  between  the  two  men, 
Fairfax  giving  a  hearty  welcome  to  the  only  relative 


96  Jasper  Fairfax. 

his  wife  possessed,  and  Westlake  eyeing  his  brother- 
in-law  from  head  to  foot  as  he  drawled:  "Ah,  Colonel, 
glad  to  make  your  acquaintance." 

"  Where  is  your  baggage?  "  Fairfax  asked. 

"At  the  Bellaire  House.  Just  got  in  from 
Washington  two  hours  ago." 

"Wouldn't  you  better  send  for  it  at  once?  Let 
this  trap  go,  and  I'll  send  one  of  the  boys.  Is  it  in 
shape  to  be  brought?  " 

"  I  rather  guess  not.  Lots  of  things  are  unpacked, 
and — I've  no  man  now. 

"  Well  perhaps  we  can  supply  you  what  you  need 
for  the  night.  Send  this  fellow  away.  My  wife's 
brother  must  not  stop  at  a  tavern  while  we  have  a 
roof.  Away  you  go  Scipio,"  and  he  waved  the  grin- 
ning driver  towards  the  gate. 

Mrs.  Fairfax  opened  her  eyes  very  wide.  Where 
had  this  long  lost  brother  sprung  from?  and  what 
had  he  been  doing  that  he  was  able  to  say  with  such 
an  air  of  accustomedness  "  I've  no  man  now?  " 

They  grouped  themselves  on  the  veranda.  Mrs. 
Fairfax,  all  impatience  said,  "  There's  only  one  thing 
to  be  thought  of  now.  Tell  us  what  happened  to  you 
at  Mill  Springs.  It  seemed  as  if  the  earth  had  opened 
and  swallowed  you.  Papa  and  I  did  everything 
possible  to  find  you.  No  one  had  seen  you,  living  or 
dead.  We  could  only  suppose  you  had  been  mangled 
beyond  recognition." 

"  You  came  very  near  the  truth  in  your  sup- 
position. For  a  week  after  the  fight,  I  knew  nothing. 
I  came  back  to  consciousness  to  find  myself  in  the 
cabin  of  a  char-coal  burner,  nestled  away  in  the 
woods.  There  were  five  others  that  the  fellow  had 


Jasper  Fairfax.  97 

picked  up  and  cared  for  as  well  as  he  could.  I  was 
the  only  one  very  badly  wounded,  and  when  the  boys 
left  me  I  could  barely  speak.  I  asked  them  to  find 
father,  and  you;  but  I  guess  they  thought  I'd  soon  be 
dead.  At  least,  I  never  heard  from — anybody,  and  I 
lay  there  in  that  hut  for  nine  weeks." 

"  With  no  other  care  than  the  char-coal  burner's?  " 
Mrs.  Fairfax  asked. 

"  None.  He  gave  me  the  best  he  could  and,  it 
wasn't  bad.  He  used  plenty  of  water  for  my  wounds. 
Had  one  here  on  the  back  of  my  head  that  was  the 
most  troublesome.  No  bones  were  broken  excepting 
in  this  arm,"  and  he  held  up  his  left.  "  I've  carried  a 
stiff  elbow  in  memorian  since  then. 

"As  soon  as  I  was  able,  I  started  on  track  of  our 
division.  I  soon  found  out  what  had  happened  father, 
but  you  I  had  no  trace  of  until  a  week  ago.  I  sup- 
posed that  after  father's  death  you  would  go  to 
Madison,  and  I  wrote  you  there.  I  expected  no 
answer,  as  I  was  on  my  way  to  report  to  my  Com- 
pany. Of  course  I  was  discharged  as  unfit  for  ser- 
vice. Then  I  went  to  Madison.  No  one  there  had 
heard  a  word  from  you  since  you  went  away." 

Westlake  paused  and  laughed.  "  You  always  were 
such  a  conscientious  correspondent!  Did  she  ever 
write  you  any  letters  Colonel?  " 

"  Yes  indeed.  Marcia  was  one  of  the  most  regular 
correspondents  I  ever  had." 

"  Well,  I  suppose  it  was  so  new  to  have  a 
husband.  Nobody  in  Madison  had  ever  heard  a 
word  from  her.  I  did  everything  I  could  to  trace 
you,  and  have  kept  a  paragraph  in  one  Madison,  one 


98  Jasper  Fairfax. 

Louisville  and  one  Cincinnati  paper,  all  these  years, 
and  at  last  found  you  by  the  merest  accident." 

"  Yes?  and  how  was  it?  " 

"After  my  discharge,  and  a  few  weeks  spent  in 
looking  for  you,  I  went  into  business." 

"  But,  dear,  how  could  you  go  into  business?  Papa 
had  no  money,  and  you  couldn't  get  a  pension  then?" 

"  No.  You  probably  didn't  know,  neither  did  I 
at  the  time,  but  Sipes  of  the  Madison  City  bank 
mentioned  to  me,  incidentally,  supposing  that  I  did 
know,  that  father  had  left  a  very  snug  little  sum  with 
him  just  before  joining  the  army.  There  was  no 
claimant  for  this  that  I  could  discover  but  myself.  I 
took  possession,  and  now  I'm  ready  to  render  you 
your  share  of  it  with  a  good  liberal  interest." 

Westlake  laughed  and  winked  at  his  sister. 

"What  was  your  business?  Fairfax  asked. 

"  Mules." 

Again  the  sly  laugh,  and  this  time  Fairfax  was 
given  the  wink,  but  Westlake  dropped  his  eyes  under 
the  answering  gaze  of  his  host. 

"  You  see,"  he  said  apologetically,  "  about  that 
time  you  fellows  here  in  the  South  were  making 
Uncle  Sam  dance  to  your  own  tunes.  I  begun  to  feel 
that  Lincoln  and  the  rest  had  been  mistaken,  and,  if 
the  country  was  going  to  the  devil  I  might  as  well 
feather  my  nest  out  of  the  Government  as  to  let  some 
other  fellow  have  the  job." 

Mrs.  Fairfax  laughed  nervously.  She  cast  flitting 
glances  at  her  husband  who  smoked  in  silence  but 
with  a  hard  look  in  his  eyes  that  she  knew  meant  dis- 
approval of  her  brother.  She  spoke  lightly  as  she 
said: 


Jasper  Fairfax.  99 

"  Make  a  clean  confession  now,  George,  tell  us  how 
much  money  you  made  out  of  Uncle  Sam  in  his  days 
of  necessity." 

"  Not  so  very  much,  but,  it  will  serve.  I  have,  in 
cold  cash,  where  it  can  be  handed  out  to  me  for  the 
asking,  a  trifle  over,"  he  lifted  one  finger,  "  six 
figures." 

Fairfax  without  turning  his  eyes  asked:  "  Were 
there  many  patriots  of  your  kind  in  the  North." 

"  Hundreds  of  them,"  Westlake  answered  briskly. 
"All  over  the  country  you  hear  of  the  shoddy  aris- 
tocracy. This  means  the  men  who  grew  wealthy  by 
selling  to  the  Government  the  cheap  gummy  clothing 
that  fell  to  pieces  if  it  got  wet.  No  men  ever  made 
money  faster  than  those  who  sold  food  supplies  to  the 
Union  Army.  Others,  like  myself  dealt  in  mules  and 
horses.  It  grew  to  be  a  great  joke  to  put  M.  D.  after 
our  names.  It  only  meant  mule  dealer.  The  doctors 
said  it  slandered  them,  but  we've  got  the  money  we 
can  stand  their  grumblings,  and  the  jokes  of  the  rest." 

"  Just  so,"  Fairfax  grunted.  "And  now,  since 
that  source  of  wealth  is  exhausted,  what  are  you  go- 
ing to  do?  " 

"  I  want  to  invest  in  something  that's  reasonably 
safe,  and  will  bring  me  a  respectable  living." 

"  There  are  many  businesses  that  will  do  that  if  a 
man  understands.  Have  you  had  any  business 
training?  " 

"  None  excepting  in  mules.  I  was  reading  law  at 
the  breaking  out  of  the  war.  I  want  to  put  this  lucre 
where  it  will  be  piling  up  a  little,  and  then  I'll  be  in 
mind  to  take  up  Blackstone  again.  I've  an  idea  that 
there  are  good  places  for  money  in  the  South." 


loo  Jasper  Fairfax* 

Fairfax  laughed  dryly:  "There  are  a  good  many 
places  where  it's  needed  sorely." 

"  But  George,"  Mrs.  Fairfax  said,  "  you  were  going 
to  say  how  you  happened  to  find  us.  How  was  it?  " 

"Oh  yes,  I  got  myself  side-tracked  with  my  mules." 
He  laughed  again,  with  a  quick  glance  at  Fairfax. 

"  I  was  finishing  up  some  business  with  some 
people  in  Washington  the  other  day  when  a  Captain 
Fergus  came  in.  I  was  introduced  to  him,  and  he 
repeated  my  name  as  if  remembering  something. 
Bye  and  bye  he  told  me  that  one  of  the  strangest 
happenings  he  knew  in  the  war,  was  in  connection 
with  a  tall  blonde  Northern  girl  named  Westlake.  It 
was  at  Fort  Donelson.  Her  father  had  been  killed 
there,  her  brother  missing  since  some  other  fight. 
The  girl  was  searching  through  the  hospitals; — by 
the  way  Fergus  was  wounded  at  the  time.  He  saw 
Miss  Westlake  sometime  and  some  place  recognize 
as  an  old  friend  a  Confederate  officer,  and  after  a  few 
days  an  army  chaplain  married  the  two,  and  they 
went  away  together,  the  officer  with  his  sword  arm  in 
a  sling.  He  remembered  the  Confederate's  name 
was  Fairfax  and  he  was  a  Kentuckian.  He  heard 
him  talked  of  by  some  of  his  men  who  were  wounded 
and  prisoners.  So  there's  the  whole  story." 

"And  isn't  it  strange  too,  that  this  man  we  never 
heard  of  should  have  known  and  remembered  our 
strange  courtship  and  marriage !  "  and  Mrs.  Fairfax 
slipped  her  hand  into  her  husband's. 

"Very  strange.  But  many  strange  things  hap- 
pened in  those  dreadful  times." 

"And  now  dear,  here  is  George,  anxious  to  invest 
his  money,  and  here  are  you  pining  for  sufficient  cash 


Jasper  Fairfax.  loi 

to  go  into  banking  for  the  sake  of  our  needy  neigh- 
bors. What  could  be  more  fortunate?  " 

"You  don't  say  so!"  Westlake  exclaimed.  "Why, 
when  I  inquired  about  you  in  Washington,  and  later 
in  Bellaire,  I  was  told  that  you  were  one  of  the  richest 
and  best  known  men  in  Kentucky." 

"  You  see  my  wealth,"  and  Fairfax  waved  his  hands 
outward.  "  I  have  these  farms,  but,  while  I  was  in  the 
army,  your  sister  was  not  so  provident  as  you  were. 
She  hoarded  no  money.  She  kept  in  the  graneries 
and  store-rooms  barely  enough  for  herself  and  her 
managers  and  servants.  All  the  rest  of  the  produce 
of  these  acres,  God  bless  my  wife,  went  to  feed  our 
soldiers ;  went  as  a  gift." 

"Why  Marcia!  Who  would  have  dreamed  of  you 
being  such  a  good  rebel !  " 

Mrs.  Fairfax  laughed,  but  the  laugh  sounded 
hysterical :  "  I  did  what  I  could,  George,  and,  fortune 
favors  the  brave.  Now  when  we  need  money  so 
much,  here  you  come  with  your  heavy  purse,  and  I 
know  you'll  be  glad  to  trust  Jasper  with  it." 

"Of  course.  That  goes  without  saying.  I'll  be 
awfully  glad  to  get  the  business  all  settled.  I've 
loafed  long  enough.  I'm  tired  of  the  odor  of  mules, 
I  want  to  smell  sheep-skin  for  a  while." 


IO2  Jasper  Fairfax. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Nowhere  in  the  South  was  the  work  of  domestic 
reconstruction  commenced  more  promptly,  nor 
pushed  more  vigorously,  after  the  war,  than  in  and 
about  the  town  of  Bellaire.  Many  families  consisted 
now  of  women  and  children  and  a  few  faithful  blacks, 
some  able-bodied,  many  too  old  for  service. 

All  the  plain  necessities  of  life  were  high-priced, 
and  very  many  things  that  people  in  moderate  cir- 
cumstances had  been  accustomed  to  were  not  to  be 
had  at  any  price.  The  establishment  of  the  new 
bank  with  Colonel  Fairfax  as  president  was  a  great 
benefit  to  the  people.  There  was  no  secret  made  of 
the  origin  of  the  money.  At  first,  in  the  bitterness 
of  defeat  it  was  hard  to  accept  help  from  a  Northern 
man;  but,  Fairfax  explained  that  it  was  not  charity, 
neither  had  his  brother-in-law  obtained  his  wealth  in 
so  patriotic  a  fashion  as  to  call  for  any  scruples  on  the 
part  of  beaten  insurgents  in  using  it.  While  he  was 
protected  by  his  Government  he  had  his  hand  deep  in 
the  treasury.  He  had  hurrahed  for  the  Union,  and 
prayed  for  the  Southern  rebels  to  hold  their  forts  until 
he  secured  a  fortune. 

It  required  but  a  season  or  two  for  Bellaire  and  the 
surrounding  farms  to  put  on  that  staid,  respectable 
air  incident  to  nothing  in  the  world  in  the  same 
degree  as  a  well  kept,  judiciously  cultivated  agricul- 
tural district. 

As  to  Westlake,  he  felt  keenly  the  prejudice  against 


Jasper  Fairfax.  103 

him,  but  being  brother-in-law  to  Colonel  Fairfax 
smoothed  the  way  for  him  more  than  he  liked  to 
acknowledge.  He  fancied  he  had  great  adaptability. 
He  wanted  the  credit  of  winning  his  own  way.  He 
was  not  averse  to  being  welcomed  as  a  man  of  wealth, 
but  he  wished  more  than  anything  else  to  be  con- 
sidered a  man  of  tact  and  fine  instincts.  He  studied 
Southern  dialect  and  tricks  of  speech.  He  would 
have  liked  to  be  mistaken  for  a  genuine  son  of  the 
South.  Since  this  was  impossible  with  the  natives, 
he  contented  himself  with  assuming  a  vast  cosmo- 
politanism. He  professed  to  feel  at  home  anywhere. 
All  parts  of  the  world  were  the  same  to  him.  He 
was  very  grateful  to  his  sister  and  to  fate  that  he  had 
such  respectable  relations.  He  gazed  on  the  extent 
of  Fairfax  Farms  with  the  most  beatific  satisfaction. 
He  walked  through  the  big  rooms  with  the  air  of  a 
king.  It  was  all  so  much  finer  than  anything  he  had 
ever  dreamed  of  for  his  pretty  sister.  He  liked  to 
feel  that  his  own  sudden  wealth  would  be  shorn  of 
half  its  glitter  by  this  alliance  with  a  family  that  had 
always  been  respectable. 

It  was  a  morning  or  two  after  his  arrival  that  he 
was  walking  about  the  lawns  and  gardens  with  Mrs. 
Fairfax,  after  declining  to  accompany  the  Colonel  to 
Bellaire.  They  had  strolled  down  the  beech  path 
and  sat  on  a  rustic  settee  in  plain  view  of  the  ruin. 
Naturally  he  asked  its  history,  and  was  told  the  story 
of  Jasper's  aunt,  and  the  beautiful  fraud  who  was  to 
have  been  his  wife. 

"  But,  why  in  the  world,"  he  asked,  "  doesn't  the 
Colonel  have  these  walls  taken  down?  They're  a  blot. 
This  stone  could  be  utilized  about  the  farm." 


IO4  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"  I  know  that,  but,  there's  no  use  of  saying  one 
word.  I  think  that  Jasper  feels  that  in  a  degree  he 
is  responsible  for  the  death  of  the  girl.  Of  course  he 
couldn't  marry  her  after  knowing  of  her  mixed 
blood." 

"  That's  all  bosh.  I  wish  some  of  my  forbears  had 
married  a  "coon"  and  putalittle  color  in  my  make-up." 

"  Why  George!  I  wouldn't  take  a  fortune  for  my 
coloring,  just  as  it  is." 

"  No,  I  suppose  not,  since  it  secured  a  fortune  for 
you.  It's  all  very  well  for  you,  and  for  Zoe,  but  if 
you  ever  have  a  son  I  hope  he'll  be  more  like  the 
Colonel." 

"  I  hope  so  too.  But  about  those  walls  and 
chimnies:  I  wanted  them  taken  down  when  I  first 
came  here,  and  such  a  letter  as  I  had  from  Jasper, 
and  we  only  married  a  few  months!  Since  he  came 
home  I've  mentioned  it  twice.  The  first  time  he 
played  it  was  a  joke,  but  the  second  time  he  declared 
if  I  insisted  on  having  the  walls  torn  down,  he'd  take 
me  to  Bellaire  to  live  where  I  need  never  see  them. 
I  never  saw  him  in  quite  such  a  mood.  You  see,  I 
don't  mind  the  look  of  the  ruin  so  much  as  I  do  the 
effect  it  has  on  the  servants.  It  keeps  them  in  a  con- 
stant state  of  excitement.  They're  continually  re- 
calling times  of  happenings  in  the  Redfield  family, 
and  showing  reasons  why  the  ghosts  should  walk  on 
certain  nights.  Then  they  hear  screams  and  groans, 
and  see  flitting  shapes.  Their  theory  is  that  Salome 
and  her  uncle  were  so  incensed  at  the  idea  of  her  be- 
ing thrown  over  after  the  death  of  her  father  that  they 
deliberately  set  fire  to  the  powder  and  sacrificed 


Jasper  Fairfax.  105 

themselves  rather  than  that  this  highly  educated, 
beautiful  Salome  should  submit  to  slavery." 

"  That  was  rather  rough  on  the  girl.  Under  the 
circumstances  seems  to  me  the  Colonel  ought  to  have 
married  her.  Mixed  blood  is  awfully  common  in 
the  South." 

"  It's  common  wherever  the  two  races  are.  Look 
at  the  colored  people  in  Madison.  You  know  that 
amongst  the  few  hundreds  there  you'll  find  all  shades 
from  coal  black  to  sheepskin  gray.  Miscegenation  is 
not  an  exclusively  Southern  vice." 

"  Well  dear  me !  You're  only  a  Southerner  by 
marriage,  but  you're  as  good  a  rebel  as  anybody.  By 
the  way;  did  you  ever  know  what  became  of  Jack 
Saunders?  " 

"  Sh!  No.  I'd  like  to  know  too,  just  for  my  own 
satisfaction.  I  wouldn't  like  very  well  for  him  to 
present  himself  here  looking  for  me  and  a  chance  to 
invest  a  fortune,"  and  Mrs.  Fairfax  laughed  while  her 
face  reddened. 

"Oh  no  danger.  Poor  devil  was  killed  in  the  first 
day's  fight  in  the  Wilderness.  Some  of  his  things, 
a  scrap  of  his  hair,  his  cap,  some  buttons,  a  ring  and 
some  letters  were  sent  to  his  mother.  She  showed 
them  to  me  when  I  was  in  Madison.  She  never  had 
the  least  idea  who  sent  them.  There  was  a  scrawl  on 
a  leaf  from  a  note-book,  saying  the  things  were  taken 
from  a  dead  soldier,  and  as  the  letters  identified  him, 
they  were  sent.  The  note  was  signed,  'A  Con- 
federate Soldier'." 

"Poor  Jack!  But,  I'm  afraid  we  wouldn't  have 
been  happy  together/' 


io6  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"  It's  just  as  well  to  say  that  now.  Did  he  know 
of  your  marriage?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure.  He  had  a  photograph 
of  mine  that  I'd  like  to  know  of.  Did  Mrs.  Saunders 
mention  it?  " 

"  No.    How  about  letters?  " 

"I  had  written  very  few,  and  those  might  have  been 
to  my  grandfather.  You  know  how  cranky  papa 
was  about  such  things.  Of  course  he  didn't  know 
that  Jack  had  my  photograph." 

"Well  you  and  the  Colonel  have  both  had  your 
little  affairs  of  the  heart;  but,  as  the  principal  wit- 
nesses against  you  are  dead,  I  guess  the  future  is 
safe  enough." 

"Jasper  had  a  more  serious  affair  than  that  of 
Salome.  You  remember  the  Adelaide  Francis  I 
told  you  of  meeting  the  summer  when  I  was  in  the 
Adirondacks,  where  I  first  met  Jasper  and  his  aunt 
and  Salome?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Well  she  and  Jasper  were  married  in  Washington 
in  the  early  part  of  the  next  year  after  the  tragedy 
here,"  waving  her  hand  toward  the  ruin. 

"  They  lived  together  only  a  few  weeks,  quarreled 
on  the  state  of  the  country  and  soon  after  the  fall  of 
Fort  Sumter  they  separated." 

"The  devil!  Why  that  must  have  been  only  about 
a  year  before  you  and  he  were  married." 

"  Just  about  a  year,  or  less.  Well,  about  half  an 
hour  before  the  time  for  our  marriage  ceremony,  he 
received  a  week  old  letter  from  Adelaide's  father, 
announcing  the  birth  of  a  baby — a  boy." 

"  By  Gosh !    And  he  told  you  of  it?  " 


Jasper  Fairfax.  107 

"Of  course.    Jasper  wouldn't  deceive  me." 

"  He  needn't  deceive  you,  he  could  simply  keep 
his  mouth  shut." 

"  He  wouldn't  even  seem  to  deceive  me." 

"  I'm  afraid  that  cub  may  put  Zoe's  nose  out  of 
joint." 

"Oh,  I  think  not.  I  asked  him,  at  the  time  what 
he  meant  to  do  about  it,  and  he  said  he  didn't  feel 
called  upon  to  do  anything.  He  said  the  quarrel  had 
not  been  of  a  personal  nature  at  all.  That  by  the 
terms  of  the  divorce  both  were  absolutely  free,  and 
that  Adelaide  had  said  she  would  resume  her  maiden 
name;  and  there  was  no  least  hint  that  a  child  was 
expected.  I  don't  belreve  he  has  ever  heard  from 
any  of  the  Francis  family  since." 

"And  you've  never  mentioned  the  matter  to  him 
since?  " 

''Oh  no!  You  see  I've  seen  so  little  of  him  since 
we've  been  married;  and  of  course  I  couldn't  write 
him  about  it." 

"  Probably  it's  best  to  keep  still.  Wait  until  some- 
thing brings  the  subject  up.  That  youngster  must 
be  about  three  years  old." 

"  Yes,  over  three  since  February.  How  much  I'd 
like  to  see  him!  " 

"  Well,  pray  the  Lord  you  never  may,  and  pray  too 
for  a  son  of  your  own.  I  tell  you,  these  Southern 
fellows  have  great  ideas  of  holding  their  realty  in  one 
name  for  ages ;  like  the  nobility  of  Europe." 

"  Jasper  has  some  distant  relations  in  England,  all 
the  relations  he  knows  anything  about,  by  the  way, 
and  they've  a  title.  It  seems  the  two  brothers  who 
came  to  the  colonies  were  younger  sons,  or  cousins 


io8  Jasper  Fairfax. 

or  something  of  Lord  Treslyn  whose  family  name 
was  and  is,  Fairfax." 

"  It  would  be  a  fine  trick  of  fortune  if  the  Colonel 
shoud  inherit  an  English  title." 

"  But  he  won't.  Several  years  ago  he  visited 
Treslyn  Castle  and  was  entertained  most  splendidly. 
The  family  consisted  of  Lord  Treslyn,  only  about 
sixty  years  old,  his  son  Leigh  Fairfax  probably  a 
dozen  years  older  than  Jasper,  and  at  that  time  he 
had  four  children.  Two  boys  and  two  girls." 

"  Not  much  chance  then  for  our  Kentuckian. 
Lucky  for  him  he  doesn't  need  this  English  wealth." 

"Oh  yes,  he'd  never  live  in  England.  No  man  was 
ever  prouder  of  his  nationality  than  Jasper  is." 

After  a  pause  Westlake  remarked: 

"  I  believe,  Marcia  that  ruin  is  rather  picturesque, 
both  to  look  at  and  to  think  about.  It's  romantic. 
In  a  way  it's  a  monument  to  the  girl.  Even  the  ghosts 
give  an  air  of  aristocracy  to  the  place." 

"  I  think  some  of  the  ghosts  the  darkies  have  seen 
and  heard  were  very  much  alive  people,  searching  for 
Salome's  diamonds." 

"  What!     Was  she  the  owner  of  diamonds?" 

"Oh  my  yes!  Sheba  has  told  me  of  bracelets  and 
necklaces  and  hair  ornaments  'and  brooches  and  rings 
without  end.  So  has  Mrs.  Simmons.  The  Simmons 
people  have  lived  here  for  thirty  years.  Ceely,  who 
used  to  be  Salome's  maid  has  talked  by  the  hour  about 
her  jewelry.  Her  father  had  quite  a  collection  of 
uncut  jewels  that  he  left  her  in  his  will.  Not  one  of 
these  has  ever  been  found.  Mrs.  Simmons  has  told 
me  that  she  and  her  husband,  their  daughter  and  son- 
in-law  have  spent  hours  and  hours  digging  in  the 


Jasper  Fairfax.  109 

rubbish.  They  think  that  Salome  and  Victor  secreted 
the  jewels  somewhere,  intending  to  carry  them  away, 
but,  an  accident  with  a  match  or  a  candle  fired  the 
powder  and  they  perished." 

"  Well,  well !  fine  chance  for  detective  work 
whether  the  fortune  was  ever  found  or  not.  I  must 
take  a  look  at  the  place.  Lord!  all  sorts  of  mischief, 
like  counterfeiting,  unlawful  distilling  or  secreting 
stolen  goods  might  be  carried  on  there.  I  suppose 
there's  a  cellar?  " 

"Oh  yes,  under  the  whole  house.  Many  of  the 
floors  over  the  cellars  were  lined  with  stone  laid  in 
cement." 

"  H'm ;  people  don't  build  that  way  nowadays." 

Westlake  clasped  his  hands  behind  his  head  and 
dropping  his  hat  he  leaned  back  and  stared  at  the  gray 
walls,  half  covered  with  ivy.  Mrs.  Fairfax  said  some- 
thing about  returning  to  the  house.  It  was  nearly 
time  for  lunch ;  Jasper  might  be  at  home  and  she  must 
see  if  Zoe  was  being  cared  for. 

Westlake  yawned :  "  But  this  kid  of  the  Colonel's 
first  wife, — where  is  he  supposed  to  live?  " 

"  In  Washington.  He  was  born  there.  You  see 
Senator  Francis  was  a  Unionist,  and  he  lost  caste  to 
such  a  degree  that  after  a  few  months  of  the  war,  he 
never  dared  to  show  himself  in  Lexington.  They 
say  his  house  there  was  ruined  by  a  mob  of  his  friends 
who  had  voted  him  into  Congress  several  terms." 

"  Good  enough  for  him.  But  you  just  keep  your 
eyes  open  about  that  boy.  If  Fairfax  happens  to 
have  an  errand  to  Washington  or  anywhere  else,  you 
go  with  him.  Your  predecessor  may  not  live  in 
Washington  now." 


no  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"Why  George,  I  don't  believe  Jasper  would  deceive 
me.  If  he's  doing  anything  for  Adelaide  and  her 
child,  or  if  he  wanted  to  go  and  see  them,  I'm  sure 
he'd  tell  me." 

"  Don't  fool  yourself.  He  wouldn't  want  to  have 
a  row,  and  you're  no  woman  if  you  wouldn't  object 
to  him  keeping  tab  on  Adelaide  and  her  boy.  Just 
keep  your  eyes  open.  If  you  discover  nothing,  all 
right.  If  you  find  that  you  and  Zoe  have  each  a 
rival,  you'll  be  oartially  prepared  for  them/* 


Jasper  Fairfax.  in 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Before  this  conversation  with  her  brother,  Mrs. 
Fairfax  had  often  reviewed  the  events  that  had  led  up 
to  her  short  courtship  and  sudden  marriage.  That 
her  husband  loved  her  she  did  not  doubt.  Some- 
times when  she  lifted  her  eyes  and  found  his  own 
fixed  upon  her  with  a  dreamy,  half  smiling  expression 
she  was  pleased  to  believe  that  he  was  glad  of  the 
wreck  of  his  first  marriage.  Then  her  cheeks  grew 
pink,  and  a  wonder  stole  into  her  heart.  Was  she  so 
delicately  pretty  as  to  rival  even  beautiful  Adelaide 
Francis?  In  the  days  they  had  passed  together  in 
the  mountains  when  he  was  Salome's  debonair 
lover,  she  had  said  to  herself  over  and  over  that  he 
was  the  handsomest,  most  polished,  most  agreeable 
man  she  ever  saw.  In  those  days,  if  her  own  heart 
had  given  her  the  slightest  hint  that  she  would  ever 
be  his  wife  she  would  have  said  "no,  I'll  go  to  the 
moon  instead,  and  marry  the  man  who  lives  there. 
That's  more  probable." 

In  the  most  unprecedented  way  two  beautiful 
women  were  set  aside  by  fate,  and  she,  the  least  at- 
tractive of  the  three,  was  ruler  of  this  man's  home 
and  heart.  Ah,  that  last!  Was  it  so?  Did  he  grieve 
for  Salome  with  her  velvety  eyes  and  wonderful 
tawny  hair?  Was  the  ruined  home  where  she  grew 
and  unfolded  into  such  beautiful  womanhood  a 
monument  to  her  loss,  a  continual  reminder  to  him 
of  what  might  have  been?  Perhaps;  but,  that  other 


Jasper  Fairfax. 

— the  woman  who  had  been  his  wife — who  was  the 
mother  of  his  son.  Ah !  regret  for  a  dead  sweetheart 
is  a  harmless,  fading  sorrow.  Longing  for  a  living 
woman  and  her  son,  his  son — 

George  must  be  right.  In  this  train  of  thought 
was  one  that  threw  into  shame  her  hasty  marriage. 
How  fickle  Jasper  must  be !  How  soon  after  Salome's 
death  he  had  married  Adelaide !  How  soon  after  his 
divorce  from  Adelaide  had  he  married  her!  How 
soon  would  he  have  another  fancy? 

She  wondered  she  had  never  thought  of  it  before. 
What  if  he  had  been  deceiving  her  for — ever  so  long! 
When  he  was  wounded  and  a  prisoner,  how  could  she 
know  that  he  was  not  passing  the  time  with  Adelaide. 
Twice  before  he  had  been  wounded,  but  escaped 
capture,  and,  came  home.  How  foolish  and  trusting 
and  romantic  she  had  grown  since  she  had  been 
separated  from  her  father  and  brother.  Now  she 
would  follow  George's  advice  to  the  letter.  In  the 
spirit,  she  must,  as  she  was  thoroughly  imbued  with 
suspicion. 

The  brother's  advice  was  iterated  and  reiterated. 
The  two  were  never  alone  together  for  half  an  hour 
that  Colonel  Fairfax's  first  wife  and  their  son  were 
not  mentioned.  In  justice  be  it  recorded  that  it  was 
always  Westlake  who  opened  the  subject,  sometimes 
carelessly,  inadvertently,  oftener  seriously. 

Mrs.  Fairfax  watched  her  husband  most  zealously. 
She  did  this,  usually,  with  a  pretty  air  of  devotion 
that  would  appeal  to  the  heart  of  any  man,  were  he 
the  recipient  of  the  attention  or  only  a  spectator. 
When  the  banking  business  was  in  course  of  organiz- 
ation and  Fairfax  drove  to  Bellaire  early  every  morn- 


Jasper  Fairfax.  113 

ing,  he  was  surprised  that  his  wife  found  errands  each 
morning  to  take  her  also  to  the  village.  He  was 
still  more  surprised  when  she  drove  to  the  bank  for 
him  each  evening.  He  told  her  it  was  very  kind  and 
pleasant  of  her  to  thus  constitute  herself  his  coach- 
man, but,  she  must  not  inconvenience  herself.  She 
must  not  sacrifice  too  much  of  her  time  to  please  him. 

Had  she  not  many,  many  things  to  do?  He  thought 
women  always  had  a  whole  world  of  sewing.  Then 
there  was  the  house  to  keep.  She,  being  a  thrifty 
Northern  woman  would  certainly  manage  the  ser- 
vants more  rigidly  than  would  a  woman  of  the  South. 

Sometimes  to  this  playful  banter,  Mrs.  Fairfax 
would  answer  with  a  sly  little  caress  that  could  be 
given  even  on  the  street,  and  with  entire  impunity 
within  the  business  rooms  of  the  bank. 

At  other  times,  with  a  pretty  assumption  of  will- 
fulness she  declared  she  would  willingly  neglect  any- 
thing in  the  world  but  her  baby,  for  the  sake  of  his 
society.  Then,  sometimes,  as  will  happen  to  the 
most  tactful  of  women,  her  nerves  would  be  in  re- 
bellion. She  would  not  know  that  she  had  over- 
taxed herself  until  her  husband's  good-natured  re- 
monstrances gave  her  the  sensation  of  receiving  a 
mouth-full  of  acid  when  she  had  expected  a  candied 
violet.  At  these  times  there  was  a  dash  of  tears  and 
a  collapse  into  the  nearest  chair,  and  a  sobbing 
avowal  that  she  would  stay  at  home  forever  if  he 
wished  it.  If  he  was  weary  of  her  society,  she  would 
deny  herself  of  the  supreme  pleasure  of  her  life. 

What  could  a  man  who  had  a  high  regard  for  his 
wife,  and  an  ideal  sense  of  his  great  obligations  to  her, 
do  in  a  case  like  that?  Just  what  Jasper  Fairfax  did; 


M4  Jasper  Fairfax. 

Pet  and  caress  her,  kiss  away  her  tears,  wonder  how 
such  a  barbarian  as  himself  ever  did  happen  to  be  so 
fortunate  as  to  gain  possession  of  the  sweetest  wife 
in  the  world,  and  declare  he  would  barter  the  universe 
for  one  moment  of  her  precious  presence. 

While  the  banking  organization  was  still  incom- 
plete, Fairfax  said  one  evenirg  at  dinner,  that  it  would 
probably  be  better  for  him  to  go  to  Washington  to 
arrange  a  certain  preliminary  than  to  depend  on  cor- 
respondence. 

Westlake  gave  his  sister  a  quick  glance  from  under 
half-closed  eye-lids.  She  at  once  took  her  cue, 
exclaiming : 

"Oh  that  will  be  delightful!  I  haven't  been  in 
Washington  since  Lincoln's  first  inaugural." 

Fairfax  looked  surprised  and  serious.  "  I  shall  be 
very  much  hurried;  I'll  not  be  able  to  spare  the  time 
for  going  about  with  you." 

"  I  won't  mind  that.  I've  been  cooped  up  here  so 
long!  I  want  a  breath  of  strange  air." 

"  How  about  your  wardrobe?  " 

"  I  have  enough  to  travel  in,  and  I'll  do  some 
shopping  there.  A  Southern  woman  must  not  dress 
too  well  now." 

So  the  trip  was  made,  and  upon  their  return  Fairfax 
wondered  what  it  was  that  had  wearied  him  so  utterly. 
If  he  had  had  no  time  for  going  about  with  his  wife 
she  bridged  over  the  difficulty  by  appropriating  all 
the  time  the  sun  measured  for  going  about  with  him. 
He  reminded  her  of  her  shopping.  She  had  decided 
to  make  no  purchases.  He  was  afraid  she  was  weary 
in  the  middle  of  the  day ;  would  she  not  better  rest  a 
while?  She  assured  him  she  was  as  fresh  as  when 


Jasper  Fairfax.  1 1 5 

she  left  home.  At  each  least  hint  from  him  that  there 
might  be  something  else  than  going  about  with  him 
well  worth  the  doing,  she  grew  more  determined  to 
keep  him  in  her  sight. 

So  thoroughly  had  she  become  imbued  with  the 
idea  that  his  real  business  in  Washington  was  to  visit 
Adelaide  Francis,  and  the  affair  of  the  bank  but  a 
pretext,  that  she  grew  crabbed  and  sulky  before  the 
evening  of  the  one  day  they  were  to  pass  in  the  city. 
It  had  been  arranged  that  they  should  start  for  home 
on  this  evening,  so  as  to  economize  time;  but  when 
Fairfax  saw  the  frown  in  the  eyes  of  his  wife,  he  said, 
"  No,  dear,  you  must  rest  to-night.  You  are  utterly 
worn  out.  We'll  start  for  home  to-morrow  morning." 

Then  her  thought  was:  "He's  determined  to  see 
her  and  the  child.  Well;  he'll  not  get  out  of  my  sight 
this  night." 

After  dinner  Fairfax  said :  "  Now  dear,  lie  on  this 
couch  and  rest.  I'll  go  to  the  office  and  have  a 
smoke." 

"  No,  smoke  here.  I'll  be  lonely  if  you  go  away. 
Stay  here  or  I'll  follow  you." 

"  Very  well  then ;  only  lie  down.  I  think  you  have 
no  idea  of  your  weariness." 

She  knew  she  was  tired,  but  she  did  not  know  how 
exceedingly  tiresome  she  was  making  herself  to  her 
husband.  Nor  did  he  know  it.  Her  watchfulness, 
her  uneasiness,  her  over-exertion  had  so  fatigued  her 
that  she  was  on  the  verge  of  hysteria. 

On  retiring  for  the  night,  she  said:  "  Don't  close 
the  door  between  our  rooms.  I  feel  half  afraid." 

"  No  indeed.  I  believe  you'd  better  have  some- 
thing quieting,  wouldn't  you?  A  trifle  of  valerian?  *' 


n6  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"Oh  no!  no!  Valerian  is  dreadful  for  the  nerves. 
No,  I  need  nothing. 

"  Nothing  but  rest,  and  I  hope  you'll  have  it." 

He  kissed  her  cheek,  her  eyes,  her  forehead  and 
left  her.  Her  thought,  with  a  scornful  drawing  down 
of  the  corners  of  her  mouth :  "  Yes ;  I'll  rest  when  I 
get  you  out  of  this  city.  Valerian !  Put  me  soundly 
to  sleep  and  leave  you  free  to  wander  away  wherever 
you  please!  Well,  I  guess  not." 

She  guessed  rightly.  Her  state  of  mind,  more  than 
her  weariness  of  body  kept  her  awake  until  the  gray 
of  the  morning.  All  night  long  she  watched  to  see 
her  husband  rise  from  his  bed,  dress  himself  carefully, 
be  all  ready  to  leave  the  room  slyly,  and  then ! — 

But  all  night  long  she  heard  his  regular  breathing 
as  he  slept.  Once  he  stirred  and  she  was  on  the  alert. 
He  sighed  softly,then, — what  was  that  he  was  saying? 
She  leaned  far  out  of  her  bed  to  listen.  She  heard  a 
soft  "  ha  ha,"  and  then,  "  Papa's — darling — baby — 
Zoe!" 

She  cowered  back  in  her  bed,  her  cheeks  burning. 
What  if  she  were  wronging  him  after  all?  But,  men 
were  notoriously  false;  why  should  her  husband  be 
better  than  others?  Considering  his  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances what  might  not  happen?  She  would  con- 
tinue to  be  guided  by  George's  advice.  She  would 
see  to  it  that  no  one  concerned  in  that  domestic  trag- 
edy should  steal  a  march  upon  her. 

The  morning  found  her  pale  as  a  ghost,  without 
appetite  and  irritable  almost  beyond  endurance. 
Fairfax  was  astonished  and  anxious.  Their  breakfast 
was  served  in  their  own  parlor.  He  would  have  called 
a  physician.  He  said  they  would  not  leave  Washing- 


Jasper  Fairfax.  117 

ton  until  she  was  feeling  better;  but  she  was  positive 
in  expressing:  her  wish  to  go  at  once.  She  could  rest 
on  the  train.  She  would  not  delay  him  for  the 
world. 

So  they  started  wes'tward  and  Fairfax  wondered 
more  and  more.  The  city  was  hardly  lost  behind 
them  before  his  wife  grew  listless,  drowsy,  and  leaning 
her  head  on  his  shoulder  slept  soundly  for  hours. 

"She's  a  poor  traveller,"  he  thought.  "Who'd 
have  dreamed  that  the  excitement  of  a  little  jaunt 
like  this  would  so  completely  use  her  up?  How  she 
has  clung  to  me  every  moment  of  the  time!  Poor 
girl!  She  must  go  from  home  oftener.  She's  losing 
all  her  spirit  and  brightness." 

When  home  was  reached  and  Mrs.  Fairfax,  ab- 
sorbed in  Sheba's  account  of  Zoe's  doings  during  her 
absence  left  her  husband  to  go  to  their  rooms  alone, 
he  threw  himself  on  a  wicker  couch  and  closed  his 
eyes  with  the  sensation  as  of  dropping  a  great  burden. 
What  the  burden  was  he  did  not  inquire.  He  had  no 
conception  of  the  true  state  of  the  case.  He  told 
Sheba  he  was  very  glad  to  be  at  home  again.  Home 
was  the  best  place  in  the  world.  He  played  with  Zoe, 
admiring  her  delicate  beauty  and  her  pretty  frock, 
and  after  dinner  he  walked  about  the  lawn  with  her  in 
his  arms.  He  listened  to  her  little  broken  words  with 
the  greatest  attention,  and,  by  and  by  when  Mrs. 
Fairfax  sauntered  down  the  walk  and  joined  them  he 
said: 

"  Marcia,  did  you  ever  hear  any  great  singer,  or 
any  cunning  musical  instrument  make  sounds  one 
half  as  sweet  as  this  wee  one's  prattle?  " 

The  mother  made  no  direct  answer.     She  trifled 


n8  Jasper  Fairfax. 

with  baby's  flaxen  curls  and  made  baby  talk  to  her 
while  she  wondered,  even  then,  if  her  husband  had 
not  in  his  mind — that  other  child,  that  son  of  his. 

Of  her  own  accord  she  had  laid  aside  womanly 
trust  that  should  have  clothed  her  like  a  complete 
garment.  Of  her  own  accord  she  had  donned  the 
robe  of  Nessus,  and  there  was  no  rest  nor  comfort  for 
her  under  the  sun. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  119 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

In  all  the  wide  circle  of  their  acquaintances,  Jasper 
Fairfax  and  his  wife  were  considered  a  most  congenial 
pair.  They  were  always  together  excepting  the  few 
business  hours  in  the  middle  of  the  day.  On  Sunday 
morning,  with  Zoe  in  her  cab,  they  would  saunter 
down  the  beech  avenue,  past  the  ruin,  then  along  the 
shady  highway  to  the  little  gray  stone  church.  Some- 
times they  drove  to  Bellaire  for  service,  but  not  often. 

Through  the  week  if  Mrs.  Fairfax  did  not  accom- 
pany her  husband  to  his  business  in  the  morning  and 
drive  him  home  in  the  evening  there  was  an  earnest 
look  at  her  brother  and  a  laughing  charge,  "  Take 
care  of  your  brother,  George." 

There  were  playful  commands,  too  that,  coming 
frequently,  ceased  to  be  pleasant.  The  gist  of  these 
commands  was,  "  Be  sure  to  hurry  home  after  bank- 
ing hours.  Let  there  be  no  loitering  on  the  streets 
at  the  very  time  when  all  the  pretty  girls  are  out." 

Sometimes  Fairfax  would  ask :  "  Do  you  think  so 
poorly  of  yourself  that  you  are  in  constant  fear  of  a 
rival?  I  never  dream  of  watching  you.  I'm  sure 
you  think  me  the  best  and  prettiest  boy  in  the  world." 

Then  there  were  laughter  and  protestations  that 
that  was  the  very  reason  why  she  was  watchful.  All 
the  girls  and  women  praised  him;  while  no  man  but 
himself  admired  her.  She  invariably  searched  his 
pockets,  declaring  openly  that  she  meant  to  discover 
any  secret  correspondence  he  might  be  carrying  on, 


i2o  Jasper  Fairfax. 

To  this  Fairfax  answered  that  whenever  he  wished  to 
maintain  a  clandestine  correspondence,  so  very  secret 
that  she  must  not  know  of  it  he  would  invent  a  most 
intricate  cypher  system,  or  probably  use  only  busi- 
ness terms,  and  hand  the  letters  to  her  to  read.  They 
would  be  quite  safe,  as  she  confessed  that  business 
talk  was  unmeaning  jargon  to  her. 

From  the  impetus  given  her  latent  jealousy  and 
self-depreciation  by  her  brother's  influence,  Mrs. 
Fairfax,  though  naturally  trusting  and  credulous, 
grew  to  find  this  constant  watch  upon  her  husband, 
the  one  object  of  her  life.  She  was  truer  to  blood 
than  she  was  to  conjugality.  From  suspecting  her 
husband  of  a  lingering  fondness  for  his  first  wife  and 
her  child,  and  a  clandestine  knowledge  of  them,  she 
grew  to  fancying  he  might  be  entangled  in  any 
number  of  intrigues,  more  or  less  serious,  or,  he 
would  be  if  she  gave  the  opportunity. 

"Think  of  it;"  she  said  to  Westlake;  "there  was 
the  breaking  of  his  engagement  with  Salome  and  her 
tragic  death,  but  he  was  married  to  Adelaide  Francis 
before  the  year  was  out.  They  quarreled  and  sep- 
arated and  he  and  I  were  married  within  less  than  a 
year  from  his  first  wedding  day." 

Westlake  laughed.  "  He  is  not  false  but  fickle. 
Why  didn't  you  think  of  that  when  he  asked  you  to 
marry?  " 

"  Because  I  was  in  so  much  trouble  about  papa 
and  you." 

"  Just  so;  and  a  generous,  big  hearted  man  falls  in 
love  with  you,  or  he's  doing  a  fair  job  of  make-believe, 
and  marries  you  to  protect  you.  You  accept  with- 
out a  'thank  you,'  and  now  you  question  his  every- 


Jasper  Fairfax.  121 

day  behaviour,  thinking  that  because  he  married  you 
hastily  there  must  be  something  wrong." 

"  It  seems  to  me,  now  that  I've  had  time  to  think 
it  over  I  was  very  foolish." 

"  I  tell  you  the  circumstances  justified  it  all,  on 
both  sides,  and  I  think  the  Colonel  gave  you  first- 
class  proof  of  his  regard  for  you." 

"Oh,  of  course,  men  always  justify  themselves  and 
each  other  for  following  an  impulse  where  women  are 
concerned.  If  he  should  take  a  fancy  to  some  other 
woman,  I  don't  believe  he'd  consider  me  for  a  moment. 
He'd  find  some  fine,  honorable  excuse  for  ridding 
himself  of  me,  or  keeping  me  in  ignorance." 

"  But,  Marcia,  I'm  sure  the  Colonel's  as  kind  to 
you  as  he  possibly  can  be." 

"  He's  kind  to  everybody.  Politeness  is  the  found- 
ation of  his  character." 

"  Yes,  I  know,  he's  a  thorough-bred ;  and  you're 
drawing  the  reins  too  hard.  I  think  he's  true  as  steel 
to  you.  Of  course,  if  that  boy  of  Adelaide's  lives,  he 
may  bob  up  some  dav  and  make  trouble,  but  I  don't 
believe  the  Colonel  ever  hears  anything  of  him  now." 

"  He  might  hear  of  him  a  dozen  times  without 
telling  you  or  me." 

"  Yes,  that's  so  but  there's  no  use  of  fretting  about 
it  until  you  know.  All  you  can  do  is  to  keep  your 
eyes  open ;  and,  don't  be  cranky ;  don't  nag." 

This  was  good  advice  but,  probably  Frankenstein 
had  his  advisers  too.  The  monster  he  created  and 
failed  to  control  was  not  to  be  compared,  in  his  capac- 
ity for  evil  with  the  monster  of  Jealousy  that  George 
Westlake  had  awakened  in  his  sister's  mind. 

When  a  woman  sets  herself  such  a  task  as  had  Mar- 


122  Jasper  Fairfax. 

cia  Fairfax,  by  what  standard  is  she  to  gauge  any- 
thing she  sees?  She  purposely  distorts  her  vision, 
then  sits  in  judgment  on  the  world. 

She  sees  trifles  that,  left  alone,  would  float  away 
like  a  plume  of  vapor,  but,  encouraged  and  magnified 
by  her  diseased  imagination  assume  the  proportion 
and  portent  of  a  river  of  lava.  The  'good-morning' 
of  a  friend  means,  "  how  sad  and  tragic  it  is  that  we 
must  ever  say  good-morning  or  good-night."  She 
grew  querulous,  exacting,  tyrannical. 

Fairfax,  watching  this  strange  and  unpleasant  de- 
velopment of  her  character,  wondered,  philosophized, 
endured.  He  first  believed  her  health  was  breaking, 
and  prescribed  change  of  air;  but  she  refused,  ab- 
solutely to  leave  home  without  him.  Frequently, 
then,  he  went  away  with  her,  north  in  the  summer, 
south  in  the  winter,  anywhere  she  chose,  but  there 
was  no  change  of  behaviour.  True  she  insisted  she 
was  not  ill  and  her  whole  appearance  corroborated 
her  words.  She  was  fragile  and  delicate  of  figure, 
but  yet  of  girlish  roundness  and  grace.  She  carried 
her  years  so  easily,  she  was  often  mistaken  for  the 
careful  elder  sister  of  her  daughter. 

When  the  family  was  not  away  from  home,  Fair- 
fax encouraged  his  wife  to  fill  the  house  with  guests. 
She  must  have  something  to  distract  her  thoughts, 
to  prevent  her  from  growing  morbid.  But,  though 
she  was  a  most  gracious  and  delightful  hostess,  she 
was  never  so  absorbed  but  that  she  might  watch  her 
husband,  and  from  watching  to  suspecting  and  re- 
proaching was  but  a  breath. 

Fairfax  reviewed  the  situation  many  times.  When 
he  at  last  recognized  and  acknowledged  the  blemish 


Jasper  Fairfax.  123 

in  the  character  of  his  wife,  he  told  himself  that  he  had 
been  very  much  mistaken  in  her.  He  had  supposed 
she  was  a  very  trusting  and  unselfish  woman.  In  all 
fairness  he  thought  that  under  the  circumstances 
there  was  some  reason  for  her  distrust.  Out  of  his 
own  behaviour  since  their  first  acquaintance  had  this 
distrust  grown.  So  as  he  came  to  this  conclusion  late 
one  night,  he  rose  from  where  he  was  sitting  in  his 
dressing  room,  stole  in  to  his  wife's  room  and  lightly 
kissed  her  as  she  slept.  "  My  sins  be  upon  my  own 
head.  The  fanning  of  a  butter-fly's  wings  don't 
hurt.  I  shall  be  patience  personified,  pretty  one." 

And  yet,  there  was  her  behaviour  towards  Sheba 
when  he  first  brought  her  home.  She  had  resented 
the  nurse's  attentions  to  him,  and  had  raised  a  barrier 
of  reserve  between  herself  and  the  rest  of  the  servants. 
This  he  had  explained  to  the  blacks  and  also  to  him- 
self, as  the  cropping  out  of  Northern  prejudice.  In 
a  measure  that  was  right.  Now,  after  a  dozen  yearsj 
this  feeling  was  gone.  Sheba  or  any  of  the  servants 
might  come  and  go  as  they  pleased.  They  were  as 
necessary  to  her  comfort  as  they  were  to  his  own. 
But,  he  knew  that  much  of  her  treatment  of  the  slaves 
in  those  first  days,  was  prompted  by  the  same  feeling 
that  urged  her  now  and  always  to  claim  every 
moment  of  his  time  that  was  not  filled  with  business. 

She  was  aggressive  in  asserting  her  exclusive  right 
to  him.  She  owned  him.  No  one  else  had  the 
shadow  of  a  claim  to  one  glance,  one  word,  without 
her  sanction.  The  wives  and  daughters  of  old  friends 
must  not  be  too  cordial  in  their  manners  to  the  owner 
of  Fairfax  Farms,  if  they  did  not  wish  to  provoke  a 
breath  of  frigidity  from  his  wife,  Not  that  any  one 


124  Jasper  Fairfax. 

suspected  jealousy,  but  women  learned,  instinctively 
that  Mrs.  Fairfax  had  very  rigid  ideas  on  some  mat- 
ters, and  good  humoredly  thought  no  further.  What 
would  have  been  the  surprise  of  these  neighbors  and 
of  Jasper  Fairfax  himself,  could  they  or  he  have  read 
the  thoughts  of  the  pretty,  graceful  Northern  woman 
as  she  sat  in  her  drawing  room  gazing  on  the  pictured 
face  of  her  husband's  mother  and  complacently 
acknowledging  the  goodness  of  Providence  in  re- 
moving her! 

Sometimes  Fairfax  thought  that  if  more  children 
had  come  to  them  the  mind  and  character  of  his  wife 
would  have  broadened  with  her  cares;  but,  the  years 
went  by,  Zoe  was  a  beautiful,  slender  girl  of  ten,  and 
no  younger  ones  to  call  her  sister. 

The  political  whirligig,  after  many  erratic  gyr- 
ations, had  again  spun  John  Cogswell  into  Congress. 
The  last  season  he  and  his  wife  had  in  Washington, 
was  when  their  two  daughters  were  society  girls. 
Now  they  were  married  with  children  old  enough  to 
be  left  in  school,  while  they  made  plans  for  a  gay 
month  with  their  father  and  mother. 

Mrs.  Cogswell  said  she  was  sure  she  should  find 
Washington  very  much  changed.  She  knew  too  that 
she  would  feel  lonely.  So  she  must  have  a  full  house. 
She  would  invite  others  besides  her  daughters  and  their 
husbands.  Amongst  these  others  were  the  Fairfax 
husband  and  wife  and  brother  Westlake. 

When  the  invitation  was  given,  Mrs.  Fairfax  in- 
sisted that  her  husband's  business  would  probably 
prevent  him  from  leaving  home. 

"Oh  bother  the  business!"  from  Senator  Cogs- 
well. "  Doesn't  he  go  other  places?  That  bank 


Jasper  Fairfax.  125 

can  run  itself.  I  tell  you,  Mrs.  Fairfax,  Jasper  has  so 
got  hold  of  the  people  of  Bellaire  and  here-about, 
I  actually  believe  he  could  walk  out  of  that  bank  any 
day  and  leave  the  safes  and  vaults  wide  open,  and 
there  isn't  a  person  in  the  county  who  knows  'im  but 
would  constitute  himself  a  guard  of  honor,  and 
protect  the  bank  with  his  life  if  necessary." 

"  That's  true,  every  word  of  it,"  assented  Mrs. 
Cogswell,  while  Fairfax  laughed  and  shook  his  head 
deprecatingly  at  his  old  friends.  He  was  well  ac- 
customed to  their  kindly  flatteries.  Nobody  in  the 
world  knew  him  better. 

Mrs.  Fairfax  said  primly :  "  Then  there  is  every 
reason  why  he  should  not  abuse  the  confidence  of 
his  friends." 

Westlake  remarked  lazily :  "Of  course  the  business 
would  be  all  right.  The  men,  with  one  or  two  excep- 
tions, have  been  with  the  concern  ever  since  it  started. 
Seems  to  me  Marcia  that  it  might  be  pleasanter  for 
us  to  see  something  of  busy  life,  once  in  a  way,  in- 
stead of  loafiing  in  Florida,  or  seeing  the  Mardi  Gras 
in  New  Orleans.  You  haven't  been  in  Washington 
since  Zoe  was  a  baby,  and  she's  ten  years  old,  isn't 
she?  "  and  he  looked  steadily  at  his  sister. 

"  Yes,  she's  ten.  Well,  of  course,  Jasper  says  not 
a  word,  whether  he  wants  to  go  or  not,"  and  she  put 
on  a  look  of  patient  endurance. 

"  I  leave  it  all  to  you,  my  dear.  Your  word  is  law 
in  this  house.  There's  not  the  least  difficulty  in  leav- 
ing the  business.  If  you  say  we'll  accept  Mrs.  Cogs- 
well's kind  invitation,  there's  nothing  more  to  be  said 
by  any  one.  If  you  say  no,  why  then  the  vote  is 
unanimous." 


126  Jasper  Fairfax. 

Mrs.  Fairfax's  face  reddened.  Her  thought  was 
that  this  ready  acquiescence  only  proved  how  entirely 
she  was  ignored  in  the  hidden  part  of  her  husband's 
life.  It  was  not  necessary  to  his  happiness  or  com- 
fort that  they  should  go  to  Washington.  No  doubt 
he  was  in  constant  communication  with  Adelaide 
and  her  son.  It  would  not  be  so  much  more  to 
be  in  the  same  city  with  them,  as  she  had  proved  on 
one  occasion.  Urged  by  her  brother's  remark,  and 
the  telegraphy  of  his  eyes,  and  knowing  he  would 
explain  fully  when  they  were  alone  together,  she  very 
gracefully  accepted  the  invitation.  Then  she  talked 
so  well  of  the  duties  of  wives  in  regard  to  the  best 
interest  of  their  husbands,  that  Senator  Cogswell  was 
quite  charmed  with  her. 

Westlake  grinned  broadly  and  said  to  himself  what 
a  consummate  actress  Marcia  was  growing.  Later, 
to  her  questions  as  to  why  he  approved  of  a  visit  to 
Washington  he  explained  that  for  want  of  something 
tangible  on  which  to  nourish  her  suspicions  she  was 
growing  visionary  and  cranky.  There  was  nothing  in 
her  husband's  life  from  day  to  day  of  which  the  most 
exacting  woman  could  complain;  but,  she  was  al- 
lowing her  mind  to  wander  from  this  first  wife  and  the 
possibilities  of  harm  through  her  son  to  the  merest 
trifles  concerning  other  women.  Because  of  this 
remote,  but  quite  possible  rival,  she  was  making  of 
herself  a  veritable  octopus  with  tentacles  that  drew  in 
and  destroyed  every  joy  and  comfort  in  life.  She 
was  worse  than  the  darkies  with  their  ghost  stories. 

So  she  would  better  go  to  Washington  for  a  few 
weeks;  and  if  she  could  be  satisfied  in  no  other  way, 
look  up  Adelaide.  They  had  known  each  other,  and 


Jasper  Fairfax.  127 

she  could  make  the  meeting  seem  accidental.  If  she 
used  tact  she  could  discover  if  the  separation,  born  of 
the  bitterness  of  party  feeling,  in  the  first  days  of  the 
war  had  ever  been  bridged  over.  Better  still,  she 
might  make  the  acquaintance  of  the  boy  and  find  out 
how  much  he  knew  of  his  father. 

Though  Mrs.  Fairfax  could  not  tolerate  the 
thought  of  deliberately  meeting  her  predecessor,  yet 
she  felt  an  overwhelming  curiosity  to  see  her.  She 
was  more  than  curious  to  see  the  child.  Adelaide 
Francis  was  the  most  beautiful  girl  she  had  ever  seen. 
She  was  simply  perfect  in  face,  form  and  manner. 
If  the  boy  resembled  her,  how  handsome  he  must  be ! 
If  he  was  like  his  father — ah !  She  felt  that  to  see  him 
would  break  her  heart.  Little  Zoe  was  a  lovely  child, 
but  showed  no  least  resemblance  to  her  father.  Mrs. 
Fairfax  brooded  over  this  until  it  became  a  very  real 
pain  to  her.  She  felt  that  she  was  being  tricked  by 
fate.  If  this  one  daughter  had  been  a  Fairfax,  or  if 
she  had  had  other  children  she  might  have  been  more 
secure.  As  matters  were,  what  might  not  happen? 


128  Jasper  Fairfax. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Mrs.  Fairfax  was  a  woman  of  system.  She  could 
not  abide  hurry  and  confusion.  It  was  within  a  few 
days  of  the  time  for  going  to  Washington  and  her 
preparations  were  complete.  There  was  ample  time 
for  seeing  that  everything  was  in  order  about  the 
house.  There  was  great  satisfaction  in  knowing 
there  would  be  no  worry  at  the  last  minute.  There 
was  time  too  to  pay  all  social  debts  in  the  way  of  calls. 
She  liked  to  feel,  that  after  a  short  absence  her  house 
was  the  Mecca  of  all  her  friends.  At  these  times  she 
felt  herself  the  social  center  of  her  little  world. 

It  was  to  pay  off  a  few  calls  that  she  drove  into 
Bellaire  one  morning  with  her  husband.  She  lunched 
with  a  party  convened  in  her  honor,  and  went  home 
late  in  the  afternoon.  She  was  tired  and  she  called 
Ceely  to  brush  her  hair  and  make  her  comfortable  for 
a  nap.  As  the  girl  was  putting  an  afhgan  over  her  mis- 
tress she  felt  something  under  her  foot.  Stooping 
she  picked  up  a  letter,  and  with  the  remark  that  she 
"  reckoned  it  b'longed  to  Mas'  Jaspa,"  she  laid  it  on 
a  table  and  went  away. 

No  sooner  was  she  gone  than  Mrs.  Fairfax,  rising 
on  her  elbow  reached  the  letter.  It  was  directed  to 
Colonel  Jasper  Fairfax,  and  bore  the  Washington 
post  mark.  It  had  been  opened,  and,  no  doubt  the 
owner  had  dropped  it  that  morning  or  the  evening 
before,  as  it  was  of  recent  date.  She  knew  the  hand 
at  once.  It  was  from  Senator  Cogswell;  but  why  had 


Jasper  Fairfax.  129 

Jasper  been  silent  about  it?  She  had  not  been  aware 
of  any  correspondence  between  them.  However,  she 
had  no  hesitancy  in  reading  the  letter.  The  first 
paragraph  or  two  were  pleasant  reminders  of  their 
coming  visit,  and  wondered  why  they  could  not  have 
made  the  journey  with  "  the  girls,"  Mrs.  Jerome  and 
Mrs.  Dome.  Their  rooms  were  in  readiness,  and  the 
whole  house  would  welcome  them.  Then,  and  Mrs. 
Fairfax  felt  sure  that  it  was  this  that  had  prompted 
the  letter:  "The  other  day  I  was  quite  startled.  I 
needed  a  page  to  carry  a  message,  and  I  beckoned  a 
little  fellow  who  loitered  not  far  away.  He  came  and 
I  could  not  make  out  where  I  had  seen  him  before. 
I  seemed  to  be  looking  into  a  face  I  had  known  long 
ago  and  half  forgotten,  and,  I  couldn't  name  him. 
I  kept  the  youngster  waiting  as  long  as  I  could,  while 
I  cudgelled  my  dusty  old  brains.  When  I  could 
invent  no  more  excuses,  to  detain  him,  I  said,  'Well 
young  man  I  like  your  looks.  Tell  me  your  name, 
so  that  we  may  be  even.  You  seem  to  know  mine.' 
The  answer  was,  Jasper  Fairfax.  Then  the  mists 
cleared  away.  He  looks  like  you.  For  an  instant 
my  mind  was  full  of  visions  of  lawless  natural  selection 
and  stolen  sweets;  then  I  remembered  your  ill-fated 
marriage.  To  find  if  I  was  guessing  rightly  I  said, 
'  Dear  me !  I  believe  I  know  your  grandfather 
Francis.'  His  answer  was,  and  with  his  Dad's  own 
decided  manner:  'I  hope  so;  Grandpa's  a  Kentuc- 
kian.  He  and  Mama  and  I  live  together.'  I've 
cultivated  the  boy's  acquaintance.  He's  the  trimmest 
little  figure  in  his  page's  uniform;  and  altogether  as 
fine  a  little  fellow  as  you'd  care  to  see.  As  like  you,, 
too! — what  a  thousand  pities  it  is — but,  there —  you 


130  Jasper  Fairfax. 

have  a  lovely,  affectionate  wife  and  a  charming  little 
daughter.  Young  Jasper  has  invited  me  to  call  on 
his  grandfather.  I  reckon  I'll  go  and  see  the  damned 
old  renegade  sometime,  and  shake  hands  across  the 
chasm." 

Mrs.  Fairfax  was  in  a  tempest  of  emotions.  After 
all  her  watchfulness,  this  came  without  warning  and 
found  her  unprepared.  She  could  not  say  that  it  had 
not  come  to  her  husband  in  the  same  way.  In  one 
breath  she  blamed  him  for  not  showing  her  the  letter ; 
in  the  next  she  acknowledged  that  it  would  have  been 
in  exceeding  bad  taste  for  him  to  have  done  so.  All 
the  afternoon  she  writhed  under  the  lashings  of  her 
own  thoughts  until  she  was  in  a  state  bordering  on 
hysteria. 

As  the  time  drew  near  for  her  husband's  home 
coming,  she  changed  her  mind  fifty  times  in  regard 
to  her  line  of  action.  She  never  dreamed  of  silence, 
of  placing  the  letter  somewhere  about  the  rooms 
where  he  would  find  it  without  knowing  it  had  been 
in  her  hands.  Her  indecision  was  all  as  to  the  man- 
ner of  approaching  him  about  this  description  of  Ade- 
laide's son,  and  his  reasons  for  not  even  telling  her 
he  had  had  a  letter  from  Cogswell. 

At  last  she  decided  she  would  be  dressed,  calm 
herself  as  well  as  she  could,  and,  after  dinner  have,  as 
she  said,  an  explanation.  At  least  she  would  hear 
what  he  had  to  say,  and  see  how  he  would  say  it. 

As  soon  as  Fairfax  saw  his  wife  he  knew  there  was 
something  wrong.  He  asked  her  if  she  was  ill,  or 
tired,  and  without  looking  up  she  said  no.  She  was 
carefully  dressed,  but  her  face  was  quite  colorless  save 
the  dark  circles  below  her  eyes.  Her  hands  trembled, 


Jasper  Fairfax.  131 

so  did  her  voice.  However,  she  talked  very  little, 
and  her  manner  had  a  subduing  effect  on  the  family. 
When  she  raised  her  eyes,  it  was  quite  trying  to  find 
her  husband  watching  her  with  the  most  decorous 
and  affectionate  concern. 

As  soon  as  dinner  was  over  she  started  for  the 
stairs,  saying,  "  Jasper  I  wish  to  see  you  for  a  minute 
as  soon  as  convenient." 

His  answer  was  a  quick  rising  from  his  chair, 
passing  his  arm  about  her,  and,  "  Certainly  dear,  let 
me  help  you ;"  and  together  they  went  away. 

Westlake  was  mystified.  He  could  not  imagine 
what  had  happened.  That  his  sister  was  really  ill  he 
did  not  for  one  moment  believe;  but  that  she  had 
made  a  discovery  he  was  certain.  It  must  be  pretty 
serious  too,  that  she  must  have  it  out  with  the  Colonel 
before  consulting  him. 

Zoe  remained  in  the  parlor  with  her  uncle.  He 
asked  her  how  long  mama  had  been  ill. 

The  answer  was,  "Oh,  all  day  perhaps.  I  had  my 
lessons  and  Miss  Gertrude  doesn't  give  me  one 
minute  to  call  my  own.  I  saw  mama  go  away  this 
morning,  and  then  I  saw  her  this  evening  at  dinner. 
She'll  be  well  to-morrow." 

Above  stairs  more  lucid  explanations  were  in 
progress.  As  soon  as  the  husband  and  wife  had 
reached  the  cozy  little  parlor  that  was  for  them  alone, 
Mrs.  Fairfax  sank  into  a  chair  that  stood  near  a 
cabinet  and,  opening  a  drawer  she  handed  out  the 
letter. 

"  I  guess  you  must  have  dropped  this,"  she  said 
icily. 

Fairfax  took  it  without  the  least  change  of  count- 


132  Jasper  Fairfax. 

enance  that  his  wife  could  detect.  He  barely  looked 
at  it  and  laid  it  down. 

"Oh  Cogswell's  letter.     Yes;  I  had  not  missed  it." 

Then,  as  if  remembering  the  contents,  he  dropped 
on  one  knee  beside  her  chair  and  clasped  her  in  his 
arms. 

"  My  darling!  how  sorry  I  am  that  this  gossiping 
letter  fell  into  your  hands.  It  isn't  possible  that  it  is 
making  you  ill?  " 

"  How  would  you  like  to  find  a  description  of  a 
child  of  mine,  or  even  to  know  that  I  had  a  child  that 
was  not  yours?  "  and  she  half  pushed  him  from  her. 

"  Why,  my  dear,"  and  Fairfax  laughed  as  he  rose 
from  the  floor  and  drew  a  chair  close  beside  her:  "  if 
you  had  a  child  that  was  not  mine,  and  under  the 
same  circumstances  that  this  boy  bears  my  name,  I 
think  here  would  be  no  need  of  a  written  description 
of  it.  It  would  be  living  here  with  its  mother." 

"  No  doubt  you  expect  me  to  take  my  cue  and  say 
your  son  ought  to  live  here  with  his  father." 

"  Marcia!  I  told  you  the  whole  truth  of  the  mat- 
ter on  the  one  occasion  we  spoke  of  it.  Since  then  I 
have  made  my  reckoning  in  life  without  one  thought 
of  my  first  wife  and  the  child  I  have  heard  of,  this," 
touching  the  letter  "  is  the  second  time." 

"  You  can  make  very  light  of  it,  only  supposing 
our  positions  reversed.  If  it  were  real  I  fancy  you 
would  know  my  feelings,  at  least  you  would  if  you 
loved  me." 

"  Why  Marcia,  you  knew  all  about  my  first  mar- 
riage and  all  the  trouble  before  you  and  I  ever 
dreamed  of  marrying  each  other.  Then  while  there 
was  yet  time  for  you  to  break  our  short  engagement, 


Jasper  Fairfax.  133 

I  told  you  of  this  child.  I  told  you  within  less  than 
thirty  minutes  after  I  knew  it  myself.  I  don't  see  that 
you  have  the  least  reason  for  any  feeling  in  the 
matter." 

"Of  course  you  don't  see.  What  right  has  any  man 
to  have  two  families?  " 

"  No  right  at  all.  I  have  not  two  families.  When 
I  married  you  I  had  no  wife,  no  child.  The  law  had 
made  me  as  free  as  you  were.  Since  then  I've  been 
as  true  as  the  sun  to  you.  Adelaide  was  my  wife.  I 
am  sure,  on  our  wedding  day,  we  both  had  the  very 
best  intentions.  But,  we  quarrelled.  It  was  a  part 
of  the  great  quarrel  of  the  age ; — the  quarrel  that  cost 
rivers  of  blood  and  filled  the  country  with  widows 
and  orphans." 

"Add  to  that,  the  quarrel  that  Jasper  Fairfax  is 
still  regretting,  because  of  his  lost  love,  Adelaide;" 
and  Mrs.  Fairfax  smiled  scornfully. 

"  Marcia,  my  wife,  that  is  unjust.  I  have  you  and 
Zoe.  If  you  think  a  man  can  go  through  such  an  ex- 
perience as  I  did  with  Adelaide  and  not  suffer,  then, 
— well,  may  be  a  woman  could.  I  don't  know, — I 
only  speak  for  myself.  But,  tell  me  this,  Marcia: 
Have  I  ever  given  you  cause  to  believe  that  I  regret 
Adelaide?" 

"  Not  openly." 

"  Then  not  at  all.  My  life  has  been  to  you  an  open 
book.  I'd  scorn  to  deceive  you  in  any  matter,  great 
or  small." 

"  Do  you  tell  me  that  you  have  never  seen  Ade- 
laide, never  heard  from  her  since  your  separation?  " 

"  No,  I  tell  you  no  such  thing." 

"  I  thought  so,  I  thought  so;  I'll  get  the  truth  if  I 


134  Jasper  Fairfax. 

probe  for  it,"  and  Mrs.  Fairfax  laughed  while  her 
eyes  blazed. 

"  Now  kindly  tell  me,"  she  continued,  "  how  often 
you  hear  from  her,  and  when  and  where  you  saw  her 
last." 

"You  shall  have  the  truth  and  all  the  truth,  and 
that  too  without  using  your  probe  with  unnecessary 
brutality.  This  letter  of  Cogswell's  I  suppose  may 
be  said  to  be  news  of  Adelaide ;  so  was  the  letter  from 
her  father  announcing  the  birth  of  the  child.  You 
have  seen  both.  There,  don't  interrupt.  The  other 
question:  Where  did  I  see  her  last  I  could  have 
answered  at  any  time  since  Meade's  men  made  me  a 
prisoner  on  the  Rappahannock.  But,  in  my  ethics  of 
good  taste  between  husband  and  wife  I  refrained  from 
mentioning  this  occurrence." 

"  Your  taste  is  not  the  point  in  question.  I  have 
no  special  liking  for  many  things,  but  I  want  to  know 
once  for  all,  upon  exactly  what  footing  I  stand  in 
regard  to  the  other  Mrs.  Fairfax.  So,  if  you  are  equal 
to  it,  if  you  are  ready  to  confess — " 

"  I  am  quite  ready  to  confess,  and  I  sincerely  hope 
you  will  not  be  shocked.  I  saw — the  other  Mrs. 
Fairfax — oh,  you  set  the  example,"  and  he  showed 
his  teeth  in  a  tigerish  grin  that  was  new  to  his  wife, 
as  she  lifted  her  clinched  hands,  "and  the  name  is 
hers.  I  saw  her  with  a  party  of  surgeons  and  army 
nurses  from  where  I  lay,  grievously  wounded  and  a 
prisoner.  My  wounds  had  been  dressed  by  two 
Federal  surgeons,  one  an  old  Harvard  chum,  who 
recognized  me.  They  thought  I  was  done  for,  and  I 
was  left  lying,  for  the  sake  of  air,  near  the  opening 
of  the  tent,  or  hut  or  whatever  it  was  that  served  as  a 


Jasper  Fairfax.  135 

hospital.  Lying  there  I  saw  the  surgeons  and  nurses. 
The  fight  was  still  on,  and  it  was  Rundown.  The 
nurses  were  anxious  to  go  forward.  Between  the 
thunders  of  the  artillery  and  the  charges  of  the 
cavalry,  they  and  I  could  hear  the  cries  and  groans  of 
the  wounded  and  dying  Half  dazed  as  I  was,  through 
loss  of  blood,  I  yet  recognized  Adelaide  and  Fanny 
Seton,  another  Washington  society  girl  in  their 
nurse's  uniform. 

"  Several  times  the  group  of  helpers  started  for- 
ward only  to  be  turned  back  by  an  aide.  At  last 
Adelaide,  picking  up  a  twig  that  had  been  cut  from  a 
tree,  and  tying  her  handkerchief  to  it,  started  away 
towards  the  clouds  of  smol  e  and  stench  of  blood,  in 
opposition  to  the  whole  party.  I  heard  her  say :  "  I 
cannot  bear  it; — I  can  better  die  with  the  poor 
soldiers!  "  She  carried  her  little  flag  of  truce,  and  I, 
more  dead  than  alive  fancied  for  a  moment  that  an 
odor  of  white  roses  was  blown  from  it  across  my 
face." 

Mrs.  Fairfax  sat  listening,  so  absorbed  that  she 
was  barely  conscious  of  the  far-away  look  in  her 
husband's  eyes.  He  continued: 

"  In  the  other  hand  she  had  a  full  basket." 

"  Well,  of  course  she  was  sent  back?  " 

"  No,  she  was  not.     That  night  was  a  long  one  for 

me,  and,  when  I  had  strength  enough  to  think,  I 

thought  it  would  be  my  last.     I  slept  and  waked  and 

knew  that  Dick  Hall  was  with  me  several  times.      I 

knew  when  he  hung  up  a  curtain  or  blanket  to  shut 

out  the  cold.      After  some  time,  a  nurse  came  and 

took  the  blanket  down,  and  it  was  in  the  gray  of 

morning.     Then  I  saw  a  figure,  at  first  it  seemed 


136  Jasper  Fairfax. 

only  a  wavering  shadow,  a  little  denser  than  the  gray 
mist,  coming  up  the  slope.  But  the  shadow  grew  to 
be  a  woman  with  a  basket.  She  entered  at  the  other 
door  of  the  long  compartment  of  tents  and  dropped 
into  a  chair  where  I  could  see  her  face.  It  was  white 
and  old.  I  heard  Fanny  Seton  exclaim:  "Oh  Ade- 
laide! we  were  sure  you  were  lost,  taken  prisoner, 
or  killed! "  'Killed  Fanny?  Oh  I  was  never  alive 
before  in  my  life!  Look  at  all  these  things!  taken 
from  the  poor  boys!  They  must  every  one  be  sent 
home.  Here  is  my  book  full  of  messages.  Many  of 
the  wounded  are  being  cared  for,  many  poor  boys 
need  no  care ! ' 

"  She  had  handkerchiefs,  photographs,  buttons, 
locks  of  hair;  all  the  little  mementoes  that  parting 
lovers  exchange,  all  the  things  that  mother  love  re- 
members. Some  one  brought  food,  but  there  sat 
Adelaide,  writing  out  the  messages,  folding  parcels 
that  were  to  carry  hope  into  some  homes,  shut  out 
the  blessed  light  from  others.  More  than  once  her 
hands,  coming  in  contact  with  her  dress  left  a  red 
stain  on  parcel  or  letter.  I  watched  her  as  she  sat 
there,  pale,  heavy-eyed,  her  hair  braided  smoothly, 
compactly,  her  dark  woollen  gown  so  soiled  one  could 
barely  recognize  the  material.  She  seemed  the  pity- 
ing angel  of  Peace  assuaging  as  she  could,  the  cruel- 
ties of  War.  I  recalled  her  as  I  had  known  her,  the 
gayest,  the  most  sought  for  in  any  assemblage.  She 
had  always  the  surplus  of  partners  at  the  dance;  the 
readiest  wit,  and  the  most  charming  costumes. 

"At  last  her  task  seemed  to  be  finished.  Some  one 
not  in  sight  urged  her  to  go  and  rest.  She  answered. 
'Yes  I've  finished/  She  rose,  and  from  the  bosom  of 


Jasper  Fairfax.  137 

her  dress  she  drew  a  little  circular  leathern  case, 
opened  it  and  pressed  it  to  her  lips;  then,  reeled  and 
fell  forward  to  the  ground  The  little  case  closed  in 
falling  from  her  hand  and  rolled  against  my  pallet." 

"Ah !  I  suppose  you  had  the  satisfaction  of  picking 
it  up  and  finding  your  own  picture  there,  and  our 
baby  barely  a  month  old  at  that  time ;"  and  Mrs.  Fair- 
fax's face  was  not  handsome  under  the  sneer. 

Without  the  slightest  change  in  his  voice  Fairfax 
continued:  "  I  did  pick  up  the  case,  and  I  did  open 
it.  Not  honorable  I  admit,  but  I'm  confessing  all  my 
sins  in  this  line.  I  saw  the  face  of  a  little  child. 
Whose  child  it  was  I  needed  not  to  be  told.  I  called 
one  of  the  nurses  and  gave  it  to  her,  telling  her  the 
other  nurse  had  dropped  it. 

"  Now  you  know  of  the  one  time,  or  the  twice  that 
I  have  seen  Adelaide  since  we  ceased  to  be  husband 
and  wife.  We  quarreled  because  of  the  quarrel  be- 
tween the  North  and  the  South.  There  was  nothing 
personal  in  our  disagreement,  at  least  there  was  not 
on  my  side,  and  if  Adelaide  found  something  in  me 
that  she  could  not  tolerate,  and  made  my  states' 
rights  ideas  her  cause  for  a  separation,  she  kept  it  to 
herself.  She  lived  up  to  her  principles,  I  to  mine. 
Now,  are  you  satisfied?  " 

"  I  shall  never  be  satisfied.  A  woman  is  a  fool  to 
marry  a  divorced  man,  and  a  man  who  has  once  been 
married  has  no  right  to  ask  another  woman  to  many 
him  while  his  first  wife  lives." 

"You're  talking  very  childishly.  You  certainly 
had  it  in  your  power  to  refuse  to  marry  the  divorced 
man.  If  I  had  kept  you  in  ignorance,  or  had  in  the 
least  tried  to  deceive  you,  there  might  be  some  reason 


138  Jasper  Fairfax. 

for  these  reproaches  after  nearly  a  dozen  years.  When 
you  and  I  were  married,  I  was  as  free  to  marry,  under 
the  law,  as  if  Adelaide  had  died." 

"  No  matter,  she  had  not  died.  She  was  living 
and  is  still  living,  and  you've  petted  and  caressed  her 
just  as  you  have  me.  She  was  all  to  you  that  I  have 
been." 

"  Well,  dear  me,  Marcia,  hadn't  I  a  right  to  love 
her?  If  I  had  had  no  impulse  to  pet  and  caress  her 
I  shouldn't  have  married  her;  and  please  apply  that 
remark  to  yourself,  in  whatever  degree  our  years  to- 
gether will  justify.  Adelaide  was  my  wife,  and  as 
you  know  yourself,  one  of  the  loveliest  women  the 
good  God  ever  made." 

"  You  sit  there  and  talk  to  me  in  that  way ! "  and 
Mrs.  Fairfax  sprang  from  her  chair.  "  Do  you  think 
I  am  made  of  stone  that  I  can  bear  it?  " 

Fairfax  kept  his  seat.  Not  a  muscle  of  his  face 
showed  that  he  was  at  all  moved. 

"  No,  I  am  sure  you  are  not  made  of  stone.  I 
know  you  are  flesh  and  blood.  In  view  of  your 
watchfulness  of  me  all  these  years,  I  know  you  are  of 
the  wise  flesh  and  blood  that  knows  the  average  man 
and  woman  are  not  to  be  trusted.  Still,  I  would 
stake  my  life  upon  your  honor  as  to  the  letter  of  the 
law." 

"  What  do  you  mean?  "  she  gasped,  her  white  face 
working  convulsively. 

"  Wait  a  minute  and  I'll  tell  you." 

He  left  the  parlor,  entering  his  own  dressing-room. 
She  heard  him  fit  a  key,  unfold  some  paper,  and  then 
he  came  in  with  a  card  photograph  in  his  hand.  It 
was  yellow  with  age,  soiled  and  stained.  He  came 


Jasper  Fairfax.  139 

and  stood  by  her  without  touching  her,  and  held  the 
picture  for  her  to  see.  It  was  her  own.  Along  the 
lower  margin,  written  in  clear  black  letters  were  the 
words,  Meus  Amo. 

"  Where — where — did — you — get — it?  "  she  whis- 
pered with  white  lips.  She  made  no  effort  to  take  the 
picture.  Her  hands  hung  limp  and  helpless. 

"Where  did  I  get  it?  Where  do  you  suppose? 
Where  should  I  get  my  wife's  picture?  I  took  it  from 
under  a  dead  soldier's  cheek,  pressed  there  by  his  one 
unshattered  hand.  It  was  at  the  battle  of  the  Wilder- 
ness. At  that  time  our  baby  was  about  six  months 
old.  Other  things  about — Jack  Saunders,  I  sent  to 
his  mother  in  your  native  town." 

"  Why  didn't  you  tell  me?  " 

"Tell  you!  When  I  asked  you  to  become  my 
wife  you  said  not  a  word  of  a  man  who  carried  your 
picture  with  an  inscription  like  that.  I  cannot  tell 
what  prompted  me  to  preserve  it.  By  the  time  I  came 
home  I  had  well-nigh  forgotten  it.  Prax  put  it 
away,  supposing  it  really  belonged  to  me.  Had  it 
not  been  for  your  constant  espionage  I  should  have 
let  it  pass  without  a  thought.  But,  you  watched  me 
continually.  It  was  months  before  I  understood  you. 
Then  I  wished  I  had  been  as  reticent  as  yourself. 
But,  I  had  gone  a  step  further  than  had  you  and  Saun- 
ders. The  law  and  the  church,  and  our  mutual  friends 
had  sanctioned  my  endearments  of  Adelaide.  You 
and  this  man  were  lovers.  I  have  no  doubt  but  that 
he  has  kissed  your  lips  a  thousand  times.  He  has 
compared  your  eyes  to  forget-me-nots  and  closed 
them  with  kisses; — " 

"Jasper!  hush!  will  you  drive  me  mad?" 


140  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"With  regret?  Don't  deny  it.  Come,  this  is  a 
two-handed  game,  and  I  think  honors  are  easy.  As 
I  said  before,  in  the  letter  of  the  law,  you  were  a 
maiden  when  you  became  my  wife.  In  your  heart 
you  were  married  to  this  soldier  whose  last  thought 
was  of  you,  whose  last  strength  was  expended  in 
pressing  your  picture  to  his  face.  You  had  given 
to  this  soldier  your  word,  your  caresses.  There  had 
been  no  quarrel,  no  annulment  of  vows.  The  law  had 
bound  Adelaide  and  me,  the  law  set  us  apart,  and  we 
have  never  met  since.  When  you  married  me,  you 
knew  that  Saunders  was  living.  I  don't  know  when, 
if  ever,  you  knew  what  had  become  of  him.  I  doubt 
if  you  ever  even  notified  him  of  your  marriage." 

Mrs.  Fairfax  had  sunk  into  her  chair,  her  arms 
thrown  over  a  table,  and  her  head  resting  upon  them. 

"  It  is  not  wholly  the  ring  and  the  word  of  the 
priest  that  makes  marriage.  These  formalities  but 
sanction  ties  already  made.  Ceremonials  came  in 
with  civilization.  Marriage,  pure  and  simple  is  one 
of  nature's  first  laws.  But,  there's  no  use  multiplying 
words.  It's  foolish  and  worse  than  foolish  for  you 
to  worry  yourself  into  hysteria  about  this  boy  of 
Adelaide's.'" 

"  Yours  as  well.  What  would  I  care  if  she  had  a 
dozen  children  if  they  were  not  yours  too !  " 

"True,  mine  as  well,  and  this  is  the  first  time  I 
ever,  by  spoken  word  acknowledged  the  child.  I 
wish  never  to  speak  of  him  again,  to  you  nor  to  any 
one.  I  have  no  interest  in  him,  no  curiousity  con- 
cerning him.  Since  my  marriage  with  you,  I  have 
lived  as  if  I  had  never  seen  Adelaide  Francis.  Even 
in  my  sleep — in  my  dreams,  I  have  been  true  to  you 
and  our  child," 


Jasper  Fairfax.  141 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Through  the  long  wakeful  hours  of  that  night 
Marcia  Fairfax  wondered  what  would  be  her  hus- 
band's attitude  towards  her  in  the  future.  She  did 
not  for  one  moment  believe  that  their  relations  would 
be  the  same  as  they  had  been.  She  could  not  hold 
herself  entirely  blameless,  even  with  her  distorted 
ideas  in  the  premises,  and  yet,  it  was  just  a  trifle  dif- 
ficult for  her  to  see  her  love  affair  with  Saunders  as 
anything  more  than  an  episode.  True,  they  had  ex- 
pected to  marry.  Colonel  Fairfax  had  not  in  the  least 
overstated  the  matter  of  their  manners  with  each 
other.  Like  many  other  very  rigidly  respectable 
folks  Mrs.  Fairfax  never  considered  that  anything 
between  men  and  women  was  to  be  reckoned  but 
actual  marriage,  either  by  law  or  nature.  She  drew 
the  line  at  the  ultimate.  She  but  faintly  understood 
the  feeling  that  had  prompted  her  husband  to  keep 
the  finding  of  her  photograph  in  secrecy  and  silence ; 
to  allow  Prax  to  lay  it  away  as  a  valued  souvenir  of 
honey-moon  and  battlefield.  That  he  had  kept  no 
secrets  from  her  concerning  his  first  marriage,  she 
was  very  sure,  and  she  resented  even  the  idea  that  he 
should  ever  have  a  thought  of  that  lovely  girl  wife  and 
her  child. 

Yet  in  selfish  contradiction  of  her  own  require- 
ments, she  had  never  mentioned  her  engagement  to 
Saunders,  and  now,  in  the  darkness  and  stillness  she 
pressed  her  burning  cheeks  into  her  pillow  at  the 


142  Jasper  Fairfax. 

thought  of  what  he  had  known  all  these  years,  and  of 
his  reading  of  her  love  affair.  She  felt  she  would 
never  be  able  to  meet  his  eyes  again  in  the  uncom- 
promising light  of  day.  She  found,  however,  that  in 
this  quarrel,  as  in  all  the  years  that  she  had  lived  as 
the  wife  of  Jasper  Fairfax,  he  was  the  urbane,  gentle, 
lofty  minded  man.  He  had  not  invited  the  quarrel 
and  he  would  not  entertain  it  one  moment  longer 
than  was  necessary.  He  was  the  Jove  of  his  house. 
He  let  loose  his  thunderbolts  and  destroyed  the 
noxious  vapors.  He  swept  away  the  ruins  with  a 
breath  so  that  in  peace  and  serenity  he  might  rest 
with  his  family  and  friends. 

She  fell  asleep  when  the  morning  sounds  were 
wakening  in  tree  and  field.  Some  hours  later,  as  in  a 
dream  she  heard  Zoe's  voice  on  the  stairs: 

"  Papa,"  she  called,  "  Papa,  are  you  and  mama 
coming?  breakfast's  ready." 

There  was  a  quick,  light  step,  and  she  saw  her  hus- 
band pass  her  door  with  uplifted  finger. 

"  Softly,  daughter,"  he  said,  "  mama's  sleeping. 
You  know  she  was  not  well  last  night.  I'm  ready, 
I'll  go  down  with  you,"  and  taking  the  child's  face 
between  his  hands,  he  kissed  her,  once,  twice,  three 
times:  "One  for  sick  mama,  one  for  myself,  and  one 
for  little  girl."  Then  the  two  went  down  the  stairs 
stepping  lightly,  talking  softly. 

Later,  when  the  husband  and  wife  met,  and  always, 
there  was  kindness  and  protection  in  his  every  look 
and  tone.  He  seemed  to  have  forgotten  the  quarrel, 
but  she  knew  he  had  not.  She  felt  that  the  spring  of 
this  faultless  behaviour  was  his  sense  of  duty;  that  in 
his  Herculean  strength  of  character  he  was  standing 


Jasper   Fairfax.  143 

between  her  and  her  own  puerility.  She  was  excused 
and  tolerated.  She  was  but  a  disappointing  incident 
in  his  life.  She  knew  that  she  would  no  longer  dare 
to  exercise  her  vigilance  over  his  coming  and  going; 
that  she  could  never  again  mask  her  jealousy  as  ex- 
acting love  of  his  society,  nor  could  there  be  any  more 
playful  allusions  to  straying  fancy.  She  had  closed 
this  chapter  of  her  life.  Her  childish  tyranny,  her 
unwomanly  distrust,  her  inane  unreason  had  con- 
spired to  pull  down  the  fairest  portion  of  her  house 
about  her  head. 

Through  all  the  years  since  her  marriage  she  had 
cultivated  what  is  least  lovely  in  a  woman's  character. 
She  had  done  her  work  secretly  and  called  it  by  a  fair 
name,  but,  at  last  her  web  had  been  broken  by  her 
own  hand.  She  might  struggle  in  the  tangled  mesh 
of  threads,  she  could  never  undo  them.  Forever 
they  must  remain  a  tangible,  delicate,  impassable 
barrier  between  herself  and  her  husband. 

The  letter  that  she  had  used  as  an  instrument  to 
force  this  quarrel  was  left  on  the  table  where  she  had 
laid  it,  nor  was  it  ever  alluded  to  again  between  them; 
but  when  Mrs.  Fairfax  was  alone  with  her  brother 
she  gave  him  both  the  letter  and  the  story  of  the 
quarrel. 

At  once  Westlake  was  full  of  advice  and  over- 
flowing with  what  he  termed  logical  conclusions. 
This  visit  to  Washington  was  for  some  hidden  pur- 
pose. They  must  double  their  vigilance,  and, — but 
his  sister  cut  him  short: 

"  No  George,  I  never  can,  I  never  dare  mention 
the  matter  again.  Look  at  that;"  and  she  laid  the 
soiled  photograph  on  his  knee. 


144  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"  Well!  What  has  that  to  do  with  it?  Meus  Amo. 
This  looks  as  if  it  had  been  through  the  wars.  Did 
the  Colonel  carry  it?  and  has  he  sugared  the  bitter 
pill  he  means  to  give  you  some  day  through  Ade- 
laide's boy  by  a  bit  of  sentimentality?  " 

"  No.  For  once  you  are  mistaken.  Jasper  is  the 
Confederate  soldier  who  sent  Jack's  things  to  his 
mother.  He  took  this — from  Jack,  too, — but,  kept 
it." 

Mrs.  Fairfax  was  staring  straight  into  her  brother's 
eyes,  and  her  face  was  one  red  glow  from  the  wavy 
crown  of  hair  to  the  collar  around  her  slender  neck. 

"  That  beats  hell." 

Westlake  took  up  the  card  and  studied  the  pretty; 
coquettish  face,  repeating  the  inscription. 

"  I  say,  Marcia,  this  was  a  pretty  rough  dose  for 
the  Colonel.  You  had  never  mentioned  Jack  to  him?" 

"No.    How  could  I?" 

"Well,  sure  enough?  Jack  Saunders  was  a  good 
man,  as  men  go,  but  he  was  not  to  be  mentioned  in 
the  same  day,  in  any  sense,  with  the  Colonel." 

"  That's  just  what  I  thought." 

"And  of  course  when  you  had  the  chance  to  marry 
Fairfax  it's  a  good  thing  you  didn't  allow  any  sickly 
sentiment,  any  namby-pamby  rememberance  of 
plighted  vows  to  interfere  with  your  good  fortune.'' 

"  I  think,  though  I  have  many  faults,  my  worst 
enemy  never  could  accuse  me  of  undue  sentiment." 

"  Still,  as  matters  have  turned  out,  it  would  have 
been  better  if  you  had  told  the  Colonel  of  Jack,  as  he 
told  you  of  Adelaide.  The  cases  are  not  quite  parallel, 
but,  his  sense  of  honor,  you  know." 

"  Yes.  I  know  all  about  his  sense  of  honor.    He 


Jasper  Fairfax.  145 

would  have  protected  me,  at  any  cost  to  himself,  to 
whatever  place  I  wanted  to  go.  There  would  never 
have  been  one  word  more  of  marriage  between  us." 

"  Well  it  was  the  devil's  own  trap  for  him  to  find 
this  photograph.  Did  you  know  of  the  inscription?" 

"  Yes ;  that    is  why,  whenever  I  thought  of  it,  I 

felt  anxious  to  know  what  had  become  of  it.     But, 

if  it  had  fallen  into  any  other  hands  in  the  world  it 

would  have  made  no  great  difference  to  me." 

"It's  strange  he  never  told  you  of  it  before,  isn't  it?" 

"  No,  I  think  not;  this  is  the  first  quarrel  we  ever 
had." 

"  Well,  dear  me,  Marcia,  I  see  no  reason  for  taking 
the  matter  so  seriously.  No  doubt  the  Colonel  has 
had  a  dozen  love  affairs  to  your  one.  There  was  that — 
girl — Redfield's  daughter  whose  ghost  scares  the 
darkies — " 

"  Yes,  I  know  all  about  that.  Jasper  has  often 
said  that  he  has  done  many  wild,  inexcusable  things; 
— all  the  things  that  young  men  do.  He  has  never 
pretended  to  be  a  Sir  Galahad;  and  how  often  have 
we  both  heard  him  declare  that  he  wants  no  better 
proof  of  one's  guilt  than  an  everlasting  harping  on 
innocence  of  some  particular  sin.  He  condemns  me 
by  my  watchfulness  of  him.  He  said  the  other 
evening  that  he  quite  understood  how  I  came  to  know 
that  the  average  man  and  woman  are  not  to  be 
trusted." 

"Ha!  Ha!  Ha!"  roared  Westlake.  "I  tell  you 
sister  he's  a  pretty  sharp  philosopher." 

"  Yes,  so  I  find.  If  I  could  make  any  reasonable 
excuse  I  wouldn't  go  to  Washington,  nor  allow  him 
to." 


146  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"Oh  but  you  must  go.  Of  course  you  can't  hang 
on  to  the  Colonel  all  the  time.  You'll  have  to 
lengthen  your  tether,  and  not  pull  very  hard  on  your 
end  of  it;  but  I'll  look  after  him  a  little." 

"  You  may  be  sure  he  if  wants  to  see  Adelaide  and 
the  boy, — think  of  her  having  the  assurance  to  name 
him  Jasper! " 

"  Yes,  and  that  points  to  claiming  a  good  big  slice 
of  Dad's  wealth  some  day." 

"  Well  you  may  be  sure  if  he  means  to  see  them 
he'll  tell  you  to  go  about  your  own  business." 

"  Probably  he  will.  Whether  he  tells  me  or  not  I 
think  I  know  my  business,  and  for  the  future  a  good 
part  of  it  will  be  to  look  out  for  the  interests  of  my 
niece.  I'll  try  to  see  that  her  patrimony  is  not  cut 
into  halves  for  the  benefit  of  her  half-brother." 


Jasper  Fairfax.  147 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

It  was  a  merry  house-full  that  Mrs.  Cogswell  had 
gathered  about  her.  All  married  people,  excepting 
Westlake,  young  enough  to  enjoy  being  free  for 
awhile  from  home  and  business  and  professional 
cares,  old  enough  to  be  safe  from  the  glamour  and 
falsity  of  fashionable  society. 

Mrs.  Fairfax  was  considered  the  guest  of  honor, 
as  she  was  not  a  born  Kentuckian  and  she  was 
jocularly  made  the  recipient  of  the  most  lavish  at- 
tention from  her  host.  The  continuous  round  of 
sight-seeing,  parties,  receptions  and  calls,  effectually 
covered  any  estrangement  that  might,  otherwise  have 
been  observed  between  her  and  her  husband.  In 
this  circle,  however,  there  must  have  been  something 
unmistakable  before  any  one  of  the  women  would 
have  acknowledged  a  foible  in  Jasper  Fairfax. 

White-haired  Mrs.  Cogswell  often  declared  that 
he  would  say  as  much  with  his  eyes,  a  lift  of  his  hand 
or  an  inclination  of  his  head,  as  most  men  would  take 
all  day  to  speak,  and  make  fools  of  themselves  at  last. 

Sometimes  he  wondered  how  it  would  have  been 
on  this  visit  if  he  and  Marcia  had  not  quarrelled. 
Would  she  have  insisted  on  keeping  her  hand  on  his 
arm  from  morning  till  night?  and  how  would  she 
have  managed  to  do  her  usual  sentry  duty  without 
making  him  as  well  as  herself  ridiculous  in  the  eyes 
of  their  friends?  It  would  have  been  difficult  for  him 


148  Jasper  Fairfax. 

to  believe  how  seldom  his  wife  dismissed  from  her 
mind,  that  other  wife  and  her  son. 

In  visiting  the  Governmental  Departments  where 
women  were  employed,  she  scanned  every  graceful 
figure,  every  handsome  face.  She  knew  that  since 
the  beginning  of  the  war,  ex-Senator  Francis  had 
been  a  comparatively  poor  man,  and  she  thought  it 
more  than  probable  that  Adelaide  must  be  employed 
for  the  maintenance  of  the  family.  The  fact  that  the 
boy  was  a  Senate  page  bore  out  this  surmise. 

On  the  days  when  Mrs.  Cogswell  and  her  guests 
visited  the  two  legislative  houses,  Mrs.  Fairfax  was 
much  more  interested  in  watching  the  boys  who  came 
and  went,  than  she  was  in  any  of  the  proceedings  of 
the  law  makers.  The  brisk,  trim,  boy  figures  drew 
her  eyes  even  when  her  hostess  pointed  out  men 
famous  for  wit,  eloquence,  or  state-craft.  She  was  so 
absorbed  in  this  one  idea,  she  felt  that  if  she  failed  to 
see  and  recognize  the  boy  who  bore  her  husband's 
name,  her  visit  would  be  a  vexatious  failure.  Seeing 
him,  she  was  sure  she  could  guess  whether  or  not  he 
would  fascinate  his  father  in  case  they  should  meet. 
If  she  could  see  him  privately  she  would  not  hesitate, 
— indeed  she  would  even  take  some  pains  to  question 
him.  He  could  give  no  guess,  neither  could  his 
mother,  what  friend  of  their  better  days  was  interested 
in  them.  Jasper  said  he  had  never  seen  the  boy,  nor 
had  he  met  the  mother  since  their  separation;  but, 
did  he  not  contribute  to  their  support? 

The  husband  and  wife  were  alone  together  but 
little.  When  this  happened,  however,  Mrs.  Fairfax 
was  sure  there  was  a  hint  of  reserve  in  her  husband's 
manner.  She  could  not  believe  that  their  quarrel 


Jasper  Fairfax.  149 

and  the  cause  of  it,  were  not  as  constantly  present  in 
his  mind  as  both  were  in  her  own.  There  was  nothing 
she  could  complain  of,  no  least  chance  for  an  allusion 
to  the  quarrel.  To  all  appearances  he  never  went 
anywhere  alone.  Young  Dr.  Dome  and  Philip 
Jerome  were  jovial,  pleasant  men,  and  they,  with 
Fairfax  and  Westlake  were  constantly  going  about 
together.  Fairfax  and  Dome  were  especially  friends3 
as  their  school  and  college  days  were  followed  by  a 
year  of  travel  together,  and  all  these  years  were 
cemented  by  companionship  through  the  war  from 
start  to  finish. 

In  truth  Mrs.  Fairfax  was  ready,  at  any  cost  to 
avoid  further  disagreement  with  her  husband.  Some- 
times in  reviewing  the  whole  situation  she  wondered, 
pettishly,  why  it  was  that  with  all  the  unmistakable 
blessings  of  her  lot  there  must  always  be  something 
to  make  her  unhappy.  She  was  a  long  time  in 
learning  to  accept  her  pot  of  odorous  ointment  and 
submit  gracefully  to  the  fact  that  an  insect  had  been 
lured  to  its  death  therein. 

In  her  girlhood  she  had  had  many  admirers,  but 
there  was  always  something  wanting.  Jack  Saunders 
was  handsome,  and  possessed  of  that  nameless 
fascination  that  drew  a  girl's  heart  to  her  eyes;  but, 
he  was  poor,  and  had  he  lived  through  the  war  he 
would  have  remained  poor  to  his  last  day.  When 
he  was  ready  to  march  away  to  tent,  field  and  more 
than  probable  death,  he  had  pleaded  with  Marcia  to 
become  his  wife  before  they  parted.  This,  her  father 
would  not  consent  to ;  and,  it  may  be  said  that  Marcia 
only  referred  the  matter  to  him  to  shirk  the  disagree- 
able task  of  saying  no  to  her  lover.  She  had  seen 


150  Jasper  Fairfax. 

numbers  of  girls  bind  themselves,  'till  death  us  do 
part/  to  boys  in  blue  just  before  they  marched  away; 
but  her  blonde  head  held  a  cool,  calculating  brain. 
There  was  no  place  beneath  her  faultless  coiffure  for 
cheap  sentiment,  foolish  romance.  She  fully  agreed 
with  her  father.  He  had  been  a  soldier  in  the  Mexi- 
can war.  Tent  life  was  an  old  story  to  him  and  not 
a  pleasant,  not  a  heroic  one.  His  counsel  was: 

"  There  is  no  romance  in  the  actualities  of  war. 
There  is  no  sentiment  in  any  place  where  men  are 
herded  together  free  from  the  purifying  restraints  of 
family  life.  The  barbarian  soon  crops  out.  The 
animal  soon  rises  to  the  surface,  the  soul  disappears. 
If  a  lawless  action  presents  itself  there  is  no  thought 
of  turning  away.  Instead,  it  is  'Ho  for  a  good  time! 
Tomorrow  we  may  be  dead ! '  Men  in  these  situations 
are  only  held  in  check  by  fear  of  detection  and  punish- 
ment. Their  morals  are  measured  by  the  vigilance 
of  superior  officers.  Superior  officers  have  no 
standard  of  morals  at  all.  Even  in  home  life  self 
denial  is  a  rare  trait  in  men.  In  camp  life  it  is  not  at 
all.  Now,  my  girl,  let  this  soldier  lover  of  yours  wait 
until  a  year  after  he  comes  home  from  the  war.  Let 
him  have  time  to  become  purified  in  a  degree,  physic- 
ally, if  not  morally  before  you  marry  him." 

To  this  advice  Marcia  Westlake  listened  at- 
tentively, followed  obediently,  until — But,  then  her 
father  was  dead;  her  brother  not  to  be  found  either 
alive  or  dead.  There  was  Colonel  Fairfax.  She 
had  known  him  in  society,  had  admired  him  as  she 
might  admire  the — almost  husband  of  another 
woman.  He  was  a  man  of  wealth  and  culture.  He 
was  far  above  her  in  the  social  scale.  He  offered  her 


Jasper  Fairfax.  1 5 1 

marriage,  at  once,  as  protection.  She  would  become, 
instead  of  an  orphan,  friendless,  penniless,  with  a 
distant  possibility  of  wedding  a  Union  soldier  as  poor 
as  herself,  the  wife  of  a  Confederate  officer  of  high 
grade  in  the  army,  and  owning  one  of  the  finest 
estates  in  Kentucky.  If  he  fell  in  battle,  she,  as  his 
widow  would  be  amply  provided  for.  Then  too,  how 
gently  lover-like  he  was!  He  approached  her  as  if 
she  was  a  queen.  She  thought  that  for  once  fate  was 
kind,  munificent.  And  yet,  what  could  she  say  to 
Jack  Saunders?  If  she  could  only  be  sure  that  he 
would  never  know  what  had  become  of  her  it  would 
be  a  comfort.  She  did  not  wish  his  death,  but  it  was 
the  chance  of  war.  When  she  heard  the  song  with 
the  refrain: 

"And  yet,  and  yet,  we  cannot  forget 
How  many  brave  boys  must  fall;" 

she  always  thought  of  Jack.  If  she  had  heard  of  his 
death  she  might  have  sighed;  then  remembered  his 
worship  of  herself,  and — smiled.  She  would  have 
told  herself,  'all  women  who  are  not  frights  have  such 
experiences.' 

When,  after  several  years  of  secret  uneasiness  she 
at  last  heard  of  his  death,  her  momentary  feeling  of 
safety  was  cut  short  by  the  sowing  of  the  seeds  of 
distrust  in  regard  to  Adelaide  and  her  son.  How 
these  seeds  had  grown  and  flourished  she  fully  re- 
alized now  that  she  had  time  to  think,  away  from  the 
constant  society  of  her  husband.  What  would  the 
harvest  be? 

She    recalled    the    feeling    of    rest    and    security 


152  Jasper  Fairfax. 

that  came  to  her  on  her  entrance  into  the  Fairfax 
home.  Whatever  happened  now,  she  had  wealth  and 
position.  That  her  husband  was  in  battle  against 
the  Government,  that  he  was  in  position  to  have  killed 
her  father  or  brother,  or  to  have  been  killed  by  them, 
troubled  her  not  one  whit.  She  made  a  lofty  virtue 
of  the  necessity  of  her  position.  She  said  to  her  soul, 
'my  husband  is  an  honorable  man.  His  cause  is  my 
cause;  his  people  are  my  people.  I  will  live  and  die 
in  his  inherited  home,  and  my  ashes  will  mingle  with 
the  dead-and-dust  generations  of  Fairfax.  There 
will  be  no  more  worry  and  fret  for  the  where-withal 
to  supply  the  elegancies  of  life.  No  more  beating 
about  the  frontiers  of  society.  Old  things  have  passed 
away,  and  the  future  dawns  over  the  hills  of  Fairfax 
Farms  through  a  golden  haze.' 

Remembering  these  thoughts  and  sensations,  still 
she  strained  her  eyes  continually  that  she  might, 
preadventure  catch  a  glimpse  of  a  fair  woman  she 
scornfully  acknowledged  as  her  rival,  of  a  boy  who 
looked  like  her  husband  and  who  bore  his  name. 

Driving  about  the  magnificent  streets,  in  churches, 
theatres,  at  the  receptions  at  the  White  House,  al- 
ways watchful,  always  thinking  of  this  woman  and 
her  son.  What  might  they  not  be  doing?  Where 
might  she  not  see  them? 

But,  the  days  went  by,  the  weeks  passed.  She 
dared  not  inquire  of  Senator  Cogswell  if  he  had  ever 
accepted  the  invitation  of  the  boy  and  called  upon 
his  grandfather.  Of  this  one  thing  that  filled  her 
thoughts  she  dared  not  speak  one  word.  Long  after- 
wards when  this  visit  was  casually  mentioned  by 
some  one  who  had  been  with  her  or  by  others  who 


Jasper  Fairfax.  153 

had  known  of  it,  it  brought  back  to  her  a  blurred, 
kaleidoscopic  nightmare;  a  series  of  imaginary  meet- 
ings with — the  other  Mrs.  Fairfax  and  her  handsome 
son,  Jasper, 


154  Jasper  Fairfax. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

"Who  is  that  big  black  fellow  talking  to  Mrs. 
Cogswell?  " 

Fairfax  asked  this  question  of  his  host  one  evening 
during  the  visit  in  Washington.  The  parlors  were 
full,  but,  "  that  big  black  fellow  "  was  the  most  notic- 
able  man  in  the  company. 

"Ha!  Ha!  Why,  Colonel,  one  would  think  you 
were  in  one  of  the  old-time  markets,  and  speaking  of 
a  chattel." 

"  Upon  my  word  he  looks  like  one." 

"  Yes,  and  he  has  the  manner  too.  Look  at  him. 
Every  motion,  every  gesture  is  familiar  to  us  who  are 
accustomed  to  the  race,  and,  more  especially  to  the 
mixtures.  I  must  introduce  you  to  the  Honorable 
John  Burgoyne." 

"Oh  that's  Burgoyne?" 

"  Yes,  just  home  from  Madrid." 

"  Do  you  suppose  he  ever  knows  what  people  say 
of  his  personnel?" 

"Oh  certainly.  He  professes  to  consider  it  a  great 
joke." 

"  What  account  does  he  give  of  himself?  " 

"As  far  as  I  know  he  claims  relationship  with  the 
Burgoynes  of  New  Orleans;  but,  they  supported  the 
Confederacy,  every  mother's  son  of  them.  This 
fellow,  at  the  close  of  the  war  was  colonel  of  a  colored 
regiment,  and,  in  the  round-up  seven  or  eight  years 


Jasper  Fairfax.  155 

ago,  the  president  rewarded  his  bravery  and  loyalty 
with  the  consulship." 

"  If  he's  a  Burgoyne  it's  a  left-handed  relationship 
now  be  sure  of  that.  He  has  simply  taken  the  name 
of  the  family  he  belonged  to." 

"  Yes,  I've  no  doubt  of  it,  at  all ;  but,  we  must  not 
be  too  hard  on  him.  He's  looking  about  for  a  mild, 
healthful  climate; — You  see  that  pale,  frail,  washed- 
out  blonde  woman  there  in  the  corner?  " 

"  Yes,  his  wife  I  reckon?  " 

"Yes.  She's  a  Northern  woman.  Her  residence 
abroad  has  not  agreed  with  her,  and — " 

"  I  should  think  a  residence  with  that  big  brute 
anywhere  would  disagree  with  her." 

"Oh  tut,  tut,  Jasper,"  and  Cogswell  laughed  silent- 
ly, "don't  talk  that  way.  Colonel  Burgoyne  has  half 
the  women  in  Washington  at  his  feet ;  and,  there !  see 
that?  There's  your  own  fair  true  love  bowing  to  him 
and  going  away  on  his  arm." 

"Oh  I  suppose  he's  a  man  that  the  average  woman 
would  admire  and  be  drawn  to,  simply  through  his 
excess  of  animal  magnetism." 

"  Well,  as  I  was  saying,  he's  talked  to  me  quite — 
confidingly  about  finding  a  home.  He  must  have  a 
climate  that  is  mild  the  year  round.  Mrs.  Burgoyne 
and  my  wife  are  friends,  and  wife  always  finishes  her 
talks  about  them  by  saying  'I'm  very  sorry  for  poor 
Mrs.  Burgoyne,'  though  why  she's  sorry,  she  never 
explains.  So  it  has  come  to  be  arranged,  that  at  the 
close  of  the  session,  when  I'm  at  home  to  chaperone 
the  Honorable  John,  he's  going  to  visit  Bellaire  with 
his  wife,  and,  if  they  can  suit  themselves  they  will  buy 
a  home." 


156  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"  Well,  of  course  if  he  has  money,  it  will  be  a  good 
thing  for  the  town,  but,  by  the  Lord  I  shall  despise 
to  hob-nob  with  him  s  cially." 

"  Now  see  there!  What  a  difference  in  tastes!  "  as 
Mrs.  Fairfax  came  into  view  on  the  arm  of  Burgoyne, 
he  all  flattering  attention,  she  all  smiles  and  vivacity. 

Fairfax  laughed.     "  Marcia's  very  polite. 

Then  Mrs.  Fairfax  was  seen  to  present  her  brother 
to  Burgoyne,  and  the  two  men  were  together  for 
some  time. 

Next  morning  at  breakfast,  not  one  of  the  guests 
who  had  attended  Mrs.  Cogswell's  "At  Home  "  was 
more  talked  of  than  Colonel  Burgoyne.  The  women 
declared  him  strikingly  handsome,  gallant,  knightly, 
in  short,  manly  perfection.  The  men,  while  admitting 
that  his  appearance  would  win  for  him  a  second 
glance  in  a  crowd,  that  his  manner  was  suavity  itself, 
yet  knew  him  to  be  superficial  in  education,  un- 
principled in  business,  insincere  in  friendship. 

When  the  discussion  had  about  worn  itself  out,  the 
host,  from  his  end  of  the  table  said  quietly :  "  Here's 
Fairfax,  still  as  a  mouse ;  but  he  said  to  me  last  night 
that  he  was  sure  the  Honorable  John's  a  nigger." 

Then  it  was  "Oh  Colonel!"  and  "Oh  Fairfax!" 
and  "Oh  Jasper! "  from  all  sides  of  the  table. 

Fairfax  laughed  and  sipped  his  coffee.  When  the 
tumult  had  subsided  he  said :  "  I  think  I  know  the 
marks  and  the  Honorable  John  has  them  all." 

"  I  tell  you,"  said  Westlake,  "  I  find  it  a  most  con- 
siderate proceeding,  when  hearing  an  extravagant, 
statement,  to  make  liberal  allowance  for  the  speaker's 
ruling  passion." 


Jasper  Fairfax.  157 

"  But  that  isn't  allowed  in  law  cases,"  from  Mrs. 
Jerome. 

"  No,  the  law  leaves  no  margin  for  idiosyncracies. 
It  is  the  iron  bedstead  that  lops  off  a  head  that  is  too 
long  and  stretches  a  figure  that  is  too  short.  Prob- 
ably some  of  you  know  that  brother  Fairfax  has  a 
mania  for  discovering  the  black  drop." 

"And  brother  Westlake  has  a  pet  word.  If  he  finds 
a  man  knows  what  he's  talking  about,  he  calls  it 
mania.  He  uses  this  word  as  doctors  do  malaria. 
Whatever  they  don't  recognize  they  call  by  this  long 
suffering  name." 

"  Take  care,  take  care,  old  man,"  from  Dr. 
Dome.  "You  don't  want  to  smoothe  your  best  friend 
the  wrong  way." 

"Oh  I  know  how  to  smoothe  you  Henry,  and  we've 
known  each  other  too  long  to  skip  the  truth  when  we 
come  to  it." 

"That's  right  Colonel,"  from  Mrs.  Dome.  "I 
think  next  to  housekeeping,  medicine  is  the  most  in- 
exact science  in  the  world." 

The  conversation  drifted  away  to  old  time  practices 
in  medicine,  and  Doctor  Dome  told  of  some  old 
medical  books  he  had  picked  up  in  Europe  as  curiosi- 
ties. Mrs.  Cogswell  regaled  her  guests  with  remin- 
iscences of  housekeeping  when  she  was  young,  and 
told  stories  she  had  had  from  her  mother  and  her 
grandmother. 

The  house-full  of  Kentuckians,  upon  each  social 
occasion,  witnessed  a  repetition  of  a  part  of  that 
evening's  experience.  Colonel  Burgoyne  was  the 
most  popular  man  in  society.  Wherever  there  were 
the  fairest,  sprightliest,  most  faultlessly  gowned 


158  Jasper  Fairfax. 

women;  where  ever  smiles  were  gayest,  eyes  bright- 
est, badinage  most  sparkling  there  in  the  midst  was 
the  ex-consul.  It  may  be  said  too  that  wherever 
men  stood  aloof  with  smiles  on  their  lips  that  came 
dangerously  near  being  sneers,  wherever  there  were 
covert  whispers  and  significant  broken  sentences; 
then  in  that  vicinity  might  be  seen  the  towering  fig- 
ure, the  dark,  sensual  face  of  John  Burgoyne. 

"  I  suppose,  after  a  few  years,"  Fairfax  said  to 
Cogswell  on  an  occasion  of  this  kind,  "  we'll  not 
only  tolerate  such  men  as  Burgoyne,  but  the  tar 
black,  as  well." 

"Oh  no;  oh  no.  The  black  race  will  never  gain 
more  than  it  has  now.  In  fact  I  think  prejudice  in 
the  north  will  grow  instead  of  disappearing.  The 
blacks  will  die  out  in  time.  The  death  rate  in  the 
south  is  much  greater  now  than  it  was  a  few  years 
ago.  The  blacks  know  nothing  of  the  actualities  of 
life.  They  are  free  and  they  are  voters,  but  they 
know  as  little  how  to  use  these  rights  as  a  three-years 
child.  They're  going  to  have  a  rough  time  of  it.  I'm 
afraid  that  by  the  end  of  the  years  required  for  their 
evolution  from  serfdom  to  intelligent,  thrifty,  self- 
respecting  freedom  there  will  be  but  few  left  to  tell  the 
story  of  the  war  in  their  behalf." 

"  But,  the  political  wire-pullers  are  not  going  to 
wait  for  the  slow  sure  process  of  evolution.  There 
are  votes  to  be  bought  now,  cheap,  by  the  million. 
No  matter  what  we  know  the  blacks  to  be,  they  are 
now  a  potent  factor  in  our  scheme  of  government." 

"  Yes,  that's  true.  We  of  the  South  must  stand  by 
each  other.  We  must  insist,  that,  while  as  forgiven 
rebels  we  are  taken  back  into  the  fold  of  the  Union, 


Jasper  Fairfax.  159 

we  will  tolerate  nothing  but  a  white  government. 
It'll  be  hard  lines  for  the  nigger  who  aspires  to  office 
in  the  South." 

"  Look  at  Burgoyne.  He  seems  to  find  his  lines 
in  pleasant  places." 

"Ah  but  he  poses  as  a  white  man;  as  a  loyal,  per- 
secuted Union  Southerner." 

"  Even  if  his  pretentions  were  true,  his  inferiority 
as  a  man  cannot  be  denied.  It  is  the  party  that  claims 
the  darkey  voter  that  also  claims  him;  and  see  to 
what  a  height  he  has  climbed." 

"  He  didn't  climb,  he  was  boosted.  It  was  one  of 
the  chances  of  war.  I  am  older  than  you.  I've 
noticed  that  war  and  high  water  floats  many  odious 
things  to  the  surface.  Many  things  ride  on  the  top- 
most wave  that  should  be  buried  out  of  sight  to  rot." 

"  I've  wondered  much  what  foreigners  think  of  us, 
when  such  a  man  as  Burgoyne  represents  us  at  their 
ceremonious  Courts." 

"You've  been  across  a  year  or  two,  how  did  it 
seem  then?  " 

"We  had  better  representatives  when  I  was  over; 
fine,  scholarly  men, — men  that  any  nation  might  be 
proud  of." 

"  Yes,  of  course.  Well,  as  I  said  before,  the  war 
played  queer  antics.  Wars  always  do.  They're  like 
cyclones.  They  whirl  everything  in  their  track  into 
chaos.  You  know  a  strong  wind  will  take  a  half  rot- 
ton  log  of  wood,  or  the  carcass  of  a  dead  dog  much 
higher  than  it  will  a  marble  or  bronze  statue.  Fre- 
quently the  most  worthless  men  and  things  are  lodged 
by  wars  and  cyclones  in  the  highest  places." 


160  Jasper  Fairfax. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Of  all  the  new-comers  to  Bellaire  since  the  close  of 
the  war,  no  family  received  a  warmer  welcome  than 
did  the  Burgoynes.  A  fine,  old  but  impoverished 
place  was  purchased,  and  put  in  repair.  It  lay  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  town  from  Fairfax  Farms. 

Colonel  Burgoyne  was  welcome  because  he  had  a 
family  about  him.  He  added  to  the  social  life  of  the 
place.  He  was  welcome  because  he  had  a  long,  full 
purse  and  he  used  money  lavishly.  He  employed 
many  servants  and  paid  them  well.  All  provision 
dealers  were  glad  to  receive  orders  signed  John 
Burgoyne. 

Mrs.  Burgoyne  was  sweet,  gentle,  womanly;  of  the 
clinging  vine  type.  She  seemed  to  be  always  appeal- 
ing to  some  one  for  help.  If  she  talked  to  a  woman 
friend  she  clasped  her  hand  and  hung  upon  it.  If 
she  stood  by  her  husband  she  leaned  against  him,  or 
folded  her  long,  characterless  hands  about  his  arm. 
If  one  of  her  black-eyed,  curly-haired,  yellow-skinned 
children  happened  to  be  near,  its  shoulders  were  rests 
for  her  hands.  She  wavered  when  she  walked  alone, 
and  one  never  could  tell  to  what  point  she  was  going. 
She  never  deliberately  seated  herself,  nor  seemed  to 
have  any  purpose  in  rising.  She  wilted  into  a  chair 
and  swayed  like  wind-blown  smoke  in  leaving  it. 

From  the  first,  she  and  Mrs.  Fairfax  were  the 
warmest  of  friends.  Westlake  and  Burgoyne  frat- 
ernized in  the  happiest  fashion,  and  there  was  much 


Jasper  Fairfax.  161 

business  going  on  between  them.  The  swarthy  ex- 
consul  had  the  most  implicit  confidence  in  the  ability 
of  the  tall,  pink-and-white  lawyer.  Burgoyne  af- 
fected the  manners  of  the  European  aristocrat.  He 
toiled  not  on  his  farm  neither  did  he  have  a  business 
nor  a  profession;  yet,  there  was  no  shade  of  snobbish- 
ness, no  offensive  imitation  of  the  high-class  patron 
in  his  intercourse  with  professional  and  business  men. 
His  manners  were  conciliatory.  He  seemed  anxious 
only  to  please.  He  never  provoked  discussion, 
touched  all  subjects  lightly,  and  watched  the  face  of 
his  listener  while  he  was  speaking. 

Colonel  Fairfax  met  his  advances,  in  Washington, 
and  later  in  Bellaire,  politely.  He  was  not  even 
chilly  as  he  could  be  at  times,  but  he  was  not  cordial. 
He  gave  no  cause  for  complaint,  but  he  gave  nothing 
else.  When  the  Herculean  ex-colonel  of  a  colored 
regiment  in  the  Federal  army  effusively  offered  his 
hand,  the  ex-colonel  who  had  battled  and  still  sighed 
for  the  Lost  Cause  imitated  the  action:  He  gave  his 
hand,  but,  nothing  more. 

When  Mrs.  Fairfax  or  her  brother  would  say, 
"  Jasper,"  or  "  Colonel,"  you  don't  like  Colonel  Bur- 
goyne; I  think  it  very  strange;"  the  answer  was, 
"  Some  men  there  are,  love  not  a  gaping  pig.  I  have 
no  special  dislike  of  pigs,  but,  I  confess  there  is  some- 
thing extremely  repulsive  to  me  in  this  John 
Burgoyne." 

To  Mrs.Burgoyne  he  was  all  gentle  deference.  One 
day  after  handing  her  to  her  carriage  at  his  own  door, 
and  she  had  driven  away,  he  said  to  his  wife  and  to 
Westlake :  "  I  wonder  if  that  baa-lamb  of  a  woman 
knows  the  origin  of  John  Burgoyne." 


1 62  Jasper  Fairfax. 

Mrs.  Fairfax  answered,  "Why  Jasper,  she  loves 
him  devotedly.  If  she  knows,  or  if  she  doesn't  it 
makes  no  difference." 

Westlake  laughed,  declaring.  "  Colonel  you're 
clean  daft!  I  don't  believe  Burgoyne  has  any  more 
Negro  blood  than  I  have.  He's  probably  a  mixture 
of  Spanish  and  French  Creole.  In  the  gulf  states 
there  are  very  few  fair  complexions." 

"  It's  not  alone  his  inky  complexion.  I've  known 
many  undeniably  white  people  with  as  dark  skin  as 
his,  but  there's  that  peculiar  tinge,  both  in  his  skin 
and  in  the  white  of  his  eyes,  as  well  as  the  unmis- 
takable kink  in  his  hair.  Look  at  the  children  too, 
in  spite  of  their  fair  mother; — veritable  pickaninnies. 
Why,  I've  seen  Mrs.  Burgoyne  look  at  them  as  if 
she  couldn't  understand  why  they  should  call  her 
mother.  She  looks,"  and  Fairfax  laughed,  "  as  I 
fancy  a  ring-dove  might  at  a  nest  full  of  young  cow- 
birds  that  she  had  unwittingly  hatched  while  her  own 
eggs  have  been  tumbled  out  and  worms  have  eaten 
them." 

There  was  much  going  back  and  forth  between  the 
Fairfax  and  Burgoyne  families.  Zoe  found  the  brood 
of  children  with  their  foreign  manners  and  their  chat- 
tering of  Spanish,  then  breaking  into  English,  or 
making  a  queer  mixture  of  the  two  languages,  most 
interesting.  The  oldest  of  the  five,  Sally,  was  a  year 
or  more  younger  than  Zoe  but  looked  older.  The 
two  little  girls  grew  to  be  inseparable.  A  very  pretty 
picture  they  made.  Zoe,  the  fairest  of  blondes,  with 
pale  golden  hair,  and  Sally  with  her  olive  skin,  heavy 
dark  hair,  and  flashing  black  eyes. 

One  day,  just  as  her  father  and  uncle  came  home 


Jasper   Fairfax.  1 63 

from  business,  Zoe  came  up  the  drive  on  her  pony. 
She  had  had,  as  she  expressed  it,  "A  most  beautiful 
gallop  with  Sally."  The  little  maid's  cheeks  were 
pink,  her  eyes  like  turquoise.  The  "  beautiful  gallop" 
had  blown  her  hair  into  a  shimmering  cloud  about 
her  shoulders.  Her  father  watched  her  admiringly 
as  she  gave  a  full  account  of  the  afternoon.  When 
she  had  finished  that,  and  her  praises  of  Sally,  he  said : 

"  Dear  me  Zoe,  I'm  glad  Sally  isn't  a  boy.  If  she 
was,  I'm  afraid,  within  a  year  or  two  you'd  want  to 
marry  and  leave  mama  and  me,  entirely." 

"Oh,  Sally  and  I  don't  want  to  marry; — not  now, 
anyway.  We  don't  know  who  she'll  marry,  but  I'm 
going  to  marry  her  cousin  Guido  Castlemere." 

"Ha!  Ha!  Ha!"  laughed  Westlake.  "Oh  Col- 
onel! hear  the  pretty  little  rebel  against  paternal 
ideas!  She  isn't  afraid  of  a  drop  more  or  less  of  inky 
blood." 

Mrs.  Fairfax  laughed  too,  but  she  said:  "Oh  hush 
George,  it  might  be  repeated." 

Fairfax  smiled  indulgently,  and,  drawing  Zoe  to  a 
seat  on  the  broad  arm  of  his  chair,  said :  "  Well  my 
lady-bird,  who  is  Cousin  Guido  Castlemere?  and 
where  does  he  live?  " 

"  Why  he's  Sally's  cousin,  and  he  lives  in  Madrid. 
His  mother  is  Sally's  aunt,  and  Sally  is  named  for  her, 
and  her  name  isn't  Sally  at  all,  but  Salome." 

"Ah  indeed !  "  and  at  this  name  on  the  lips  of  his 
daughter  he  slightly  relaxed  his  hold  of  her.  It  was 
only  for  an  instant.  Then,  "And  what  else  about 
Cousin  Guido?  If  you  are  going  to  marry  him  I 
want  to  know  a  great  deal  about  him." 

"  Well,  Sally  has  ever  so  many  pictures  of  him  and, 


164  Jasper  Fairfax. 

papa,  he's  beautiful!"  with  a  quick  clasping  of  her 
slim  little  hands. 

Westlake  laughed  continuously  and  immoderately. 
Mrs.  Fairfax  only  smiled  and  said:  "The  idea  of 
those  children  having  such  thoughts!  " 

"Oh,"  her  brother  answered,  "look  at  the  little  tots 
who  can  barely  walk,  playing  with  their  dolls  and 
being  mamas  and  housekeepers.  It's  only  womanly 
instinct.  Zoe  and  Sally  are  all  right." 

"And  how  old  is  Guido?  "  Fairfax  was  heard  to 
ask. 

"  He  was  thirteen  in  August.  He  sent  Sally  a  beau- 
tiful long  letter  telling  her  all  about  his  birthday 
party.  The  letter  was  written  in  Spanish,  and  Sally 
told  me  what  it  meant.  Sally  says  may  be  her  aunt 
and  cousin  will  come  and  visit  them  next  year." 

"  Do  you  think  you  and  Guido  will  marry  then?  " 
Fairfax  asked  with  great  seriousness. 

"Oh  no!  I  don't  expect  to  marry  till  I'm  old  enough 
to  wear  long  dresses.  I  want  a  white  silk  wedding 
gown  with  a  long,  long  train.  Did  you  have  that  kind; 
mama?  " 

"Oh  my  child!  I  was  in  great  trouble  when  I  was 
married.  I  gave  very  little  thought  to  my  gown." 

"  Your  mama  married  a  soldier  with  an  arm  shot 
half  off.  She  had  to  think  of  caring  for  him  and  get- 
ting him  home  instead  of  white  silk  dresses  with 
trains  •"  said  Fairfax. 

"  That  must  have  been  very  dreadful,"  Zoe  said 
thoughtfully. 

"  Now  Zoe,  dear,"  from  her  mother,  "  go  and  let 
Polly  make  you  ready  for  dinner.  The  bell  will  ring 
in  a  very  few.  minutes.  Papa  and  Uncle  must  go  too." 


Jasper  Fairfax.  165 

As  Zoe  disappeared  her  father  said,  "  I  wonder  who 
this  Guido  and  his  mother  can  be.  Has  Mrs.  Bur- 
goyne  ever  mentioned  them?  " 

"  Never.  I  suppose  they  must  be  Mr.  Burgoyne's 
relations.  Probably  his  sister  went  over  with  them 
and  married  there." 

"  Not  if  this  boy  is  thirteen  years  old." 

"  That's  true.  Colonel  Burgoyne  went  out  to 
Madrid  in  the  first  months  of  Grant's  first  term; — I 
wonder  if  he  really  resigned  because  of  Mrs.  Bur- 
goyne's health." 

"Oh  I  guess  so,"  Westlake  yawned. 

"And  this  boy,"  Mrs.  Fairfax  continued  must  have 
been  born  about  the  beginning  of  the  war.  I'll  ask 
Mrs.  Burgoyne  about  him." 

"  You  want  to  know  something  of  your  future 
son-in-law?  "  Westlake  asked. 

"Oh  such  nonsense!  I  am  very  fond  of  Mrs.  Bur- 
goyne and  naturally  I  feel  interested  in  her  relations." 

After  this  there  were  many  other  things  reported 
of  Guido  and  his  mother.  Sally  had  frequent  letters 
from  him,  and  bye  and  bye,  there  were  messages  from 
the  boy  in  Madrid  to  his  cousin's  friend  in  Bellaire; 
and  Zoe  was  impelled  to  take  up  the  study  of  Spanish 
that  she  might  read  for  herself  these  messages. 

It  came  to  pass  on  one  of  the  many  afternoons  that 
Mrs.  Fairfax  and  Zoe  were  visiting  the  Burgoynes 
that  Zoe  brought  a  large  photograph  of  a  beautiful, 
dark-eyed  boy  for  her  mother  to  look  at,  saying, 

"  This  is  Guido,  mama." 

"As  Mrs.  Fairfax  held  and  admired  the  picture, 
she  asked  her  hostess: 

"  Is  he  your  nephew? " 


1 66  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"  No,  he's  the  son  of  Mr.  Burgoyne's  cousin.  So 
you  see  the  children  are  not  much  relation  after  all. 
Cousin  Salome  is  a  lovely  woman.  She's  been  a 
widow  for  several  years.  I  think  Count  Castlemere 
died  when  Guido  was  about  two  years  old.  He  has 
no  recollection  of  his  father." 

"So  there's  a  title?" 

"  Yes,  and  a  large  estate.  Salome  is  well  provided 
for.  There's  no  need  of  a  second  marriage  for  her." 

"  Is  she  American  born?  " 

"Oh  yes.  She's  a  native  of  New  Orleans.  She 
went  to  Europe  a  year  or  two  before  the  war,  and  has 
never  been  home  since.  She  says  she's  grown  so 
thoroughly  Europeanized  she  has  ceased  to  care  to 
come;  but  we  hope  to  persuade  her  to  make  us  a 
visit  bye  and  bye.  The  children  are  so  fond  of  Guido." 

"  So  many  Americans  go  to  Europe  with  no  in- 
tention of  staying,  and  yet  remain  there  for  years.  I 
wonder  what  the  charm  is?  " 

"  I'm  sure  I  cannot  tell.  I  was  homesick  all  the 
time  I  was  there.  The  climate  was  so  trying.  With 
Salome  it's  different.  In  temperament  she's  very 
much  like  Mr.  Burgoyne.  -  She  finds  Madrid  delight- 
ful. But,  she  likes  Rome  too,  and  Florence  and  de- 
lights in  Paris.  I  used  to  tell  her  that  she's  so  hand- 
some, and  so  much  admired  it  doesn't  make  any  dif- 
ference where  she  lives;  she  always  has  a  crowd  of 
worshippers.  She  had  just  lost  her  father  before  she 
left  America ; — her  mother  she  doesn't  remember,  and 
the  breaking  out  of  the  war  made  her  stay  almost 
compulsory,  as  all  her  relations  were  in  the  army, 
and  her  father's  home  broken  up." 


Jasper  Fairfax.  167 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Time  passed,  the  busy,  happy  days  flew  over  the 
heads  of  the  children  giving  them  new  graces.  Silver 
threads  began  to  show  in  the  heavy  brown  hair  of 
Colonel  Fairfax,  and  his  wife,  whose  blonde  tresses 
seemed  to  have  made  a  truce  with  time,  admired  him 
more  than  ever  before.  For  him  awaited  a  magnific- 
ent elderly  manhood.  Often  as  Mrs.  Fairfax  silently 
watched  him  and  thought  over  the  chance  that  had 
brought  them  together,  she  called  herself  a  fortunate 
woman.  Her  uneasiness  in  regard  to  the  past  grew 
into  a  shadow  of  itself,  and  her  husband's  scathing 
rebuke  of  her  jealousy  had  been  like  an  extinguisher 
turned  over  a  smouldering  fire.  It  was  her  constant 
care  to  hide,  not  only  the  least  showing  of  jealousy, 
but  to  eradicate  it  even  from  her  thoughts.  The  more 
she  grew  to  trust  her  husband  the  more  worthy  she 
felt  herself  to  be  of  her  station.  If  it  had  not  been  for 
the  constant  companionship  of  her  brother,  she  might 
have  grown  to  remember  her  fear  of  rivalry  as  an  evil 
dream.  Westlake  found  many  occasions  to  make  al- 
lusions to  the  first  marriage  of  his  brother-in-law.  He 
frequently  pictured  what  might  happen  if  the  un- 
acknowledged son  should  see  fit  to  claim  a  share  of 
his  father's  estate  upon  coming  of  age,  or  upon  the 
death  of  the  father. 

Sometimes  Mrs.  Fairfax  would  answer:  "  Probably 
it  would  only  be  right  for  Jasper  to  divide  with  the 
boy.  Both  he  and  Zoe  would  be  rich,  even  then." 


1 68  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"  No  I  don't  think  it  would  be  right.  Adelaide 
should  have  been  true  to  her  home  and  her  husband. 
See  what  you  did !  " 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  Mrs.  Fairfax  would  answer  ab- 
sently, and,  after  being  told  this  countless  times 
through  a  dozen  years  and  more  she  grew  to  believe 
that  she  had  paid  a  very  fair  price  for  her  husband 
and  all  that  came  with  him.  Really,  she  had  sacri- 
ficed nothing,  gained  everything.  The  questions  that 
were  decided  by  the  war  had  never  meant  anything 
to  her.  She  believed  in  her  father's  political  opinions 
without  knowing  what  they  were.  When  he  was 
gone  and  she  was  married  to  Jasper  Fairfax  she 
found  it  easy  to  adapt  herself  to  the  situation. 

One  thing  troubled  her,  though  she  never  spoke 
of  it,  scarcely  acknowledged  it  to  her  own  heart.  She 
felt  that  her  husband  with  his  inborn  ideas  of  caste 
must  feel  himself  superior  to  her  and  her  brother; 
and  yet,  being  her  husband,  his  high  breeding  would 
prevent  him  ever  showing  her  that  her  surmise  was 
correct.  When  she  had  thought  thus  far,  and  remem- 
bered her  husband's  way  of  judging,  she  acknowl- 
edged with  crimson  face  that  her  suspicions  were  the 
native  growth  of  her  own  dwarfish  soul.  She  knew 
what  a  stupendous  satisfaction  it  would  be  to  her  to 
be  able  to  trace  her  ancestry  through  a  scorce  of 
generations  to  a  noble,  or  at  least  a  worthy  source. 
How  much  arrogance  would  not  such  an  ancestry 
excuse!  And  yet,  where  was  there  a  man  of  simpler 
manners  than  Jasper?  How  cordial  was  he  amongst 
friends!  how  kindly  considerate  of  his  inferiors.  No 
man  was  ever  so  ready  to  acknowledge  merit,  none 
more  willing  to  excuse  mediocrity.  His  servants 


Jasper  Fairfax.  169 

never  heard  a  harsh  word  from  him,  neither  did  they 
ever  fail  in  deference.  She  recalled  her  reproof  of 
him  in  the  first  weeks  of  their  marriage  when  she 
thought  it  an  undignified,  an  unbecoming  thing  that 
he  should  go  to  black  Mammy's  room  and  be  com- 
fortable in  her  chair.  Now,  after  all  these  years  to- 
gether, Mammy  suffering  with  the  infirmities  of  age 
would  have  passed  many  a  lonely  hour,  had  it  not 
been  for  this  kindly  custom  of  'Mas'  Jaspa'  and,  by 
his  example  transmitted  to  wife  and  daughter. 

Mrs.  Fairfax  knew  that  it  was  this  quality  of  kind- 
ness in  her  husband's  nature  that  had  made  him  fairly 
worshiped  by  the  men  he  had  led  on  many  hard 
fought  battle  fields.  To  them  he  had  not  been  the 
man  of  culture,  wealth  and  station.  He  was  their 
kindly  commander,  their  comrade.  He  had  never 
shown  that  overbearing  arrogance  that  provokes  an 
inferior  to  say:  "  I'm  as  good  as  you  are."  His  loft- 
iness of  character  sunk  all  question  of  difference  of 
worldly  estate.  His  soul  recognized  its  kindred  and 
rejoiced,  no  matter  where  met,  and  though,  perforce 
he  entertained  strangers  and  aliens  within  his  gates. 

With  the  children  that  Zoe  drew  to  the  house  he 
was  always  upon  the  happiest  terms.  He  was  friend, 
protector,  adviser,  comrade.  If  there  was  a  May- 
Day  or  mid-summer  dance  on  the  lawn  each  little 
girl  must  have  one  number  on  her  tablet  filled  with 
the  Colonel's  name.  When  Zoe  learned  several 
Spanish  dances  of  the  little  Burgoynes  she  could  not 
be  satisfied  until  papa  had  learned  them ;  "  For,"  she 
explained,  "  all  the  girls  are  going  to  learn  them, 
and  then  what  will  you  do  when  I  have  my  parties, 
you  don't  know  the  dances,'' 


170  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"  Sure  enough ! "  was  his  serious  exclamation, 
and  forthwith  he  obediently  took  his  training,  up  and 
down  the  parlor,  or  probably  the  veranda  to  Sally's 
music  on  the  piano,  guitar  or  mandolin,  while  little 
Jack  Burgoyne  clicked  the  castanets. 

Mrs.  Fairfax  and  her  brother  looked  on  and  laugh- 
ed at  Zoe's  management  of  her  father.  That  they  too 
might  learn  the  dances  was  not  denied ;  but,  they  were 
not  necessary.  Zoe  suggested  that  her  mother  might 
learn  the  music,  and  Uncle  Westlake  might  be  useful 
if  he  would  handle  the  castanets. 

While  the  children  sang  and  danced  the  time  away, 
while  the  parents  lived  their  lives  over  again  and 
grew  youthful  in  the  care-free  society,  while  many  of 
the  blacks  wandered  away  from  their  birth-place, 
finding  homes  in  north,  east,  west  or  further  south, 
while  the  old  beeches  that  made  the  shady  lane  to  the 
ruin  grew  broader,  their  long,  graceful  branches 
making  a  wider  sweep,  throwing  a  denser  shade, 
while  the  ruin  itself,  with  its  ivies  and  other  creeping 
vines  grew  into  a  net-work  of  twilight  passages  where 
the  ghosts  were  said  to  walk  by  day  as  well  as  by 
night,  while  the  messages  still  came  from  over  the 
sea,  and  the  blonde  child  grew  to  be  a  tall  slim 
maiden  and  answered  her  unknown  correspondent  in 
Spanish  as  pure  as  his  own,  still  Cousin  Guido  Castle- 
mere  and  his  mother  did  not  come. 

There  were  so  many  things  to  be  done.  The  boy's 
education  must  be  considered  before  anything  else. 
His  letters  to  Sally  and  Zoe  were  full  of  all  that  he 
was  doing.  He  was  never  idle.  Even  his  vacations 
were  filled.  These  times  he  spent  in  travel,  with  a 
teacher  and  his  mother.  He  studied  languages, 


Jasper  Fairfax.  171 

governments  and  people  in  their  own  homes.  He 
said  that  as  America  was  so  far  away,  and  so  large,  he 
must  leave  it  till  he  could  give  it  several  years.  As 
his  mother's  country,  too,  it  deserved  more  of  his 
time  than  any  other. 

Within  a  few  months  Zoe  would  be  nineteen.  Her 
birthdays  were  always  celebrated ;  they  were  always  a 
time  for  reminiscences.  She  had  come  in  the  dark 
days  of  battle  and  murder.  Her  first  cry  had  mingled 
with  the  thunders  of  artillery,  the  clashing  of  sabres, 
the  groans  of  the  dying,  the  wailing  of  widows  and 
orphans.  It  had  broken  upon  the  silent,  tearless 
agony  of  mothers  of  dead  soldiers.  Over  her  tiny 
white  head  had  been  said:  "Oh  be  glad  you  have  a 
daughter!  She  can  never  be  a  soldier!" 

Time  the  great  healer  had  spread  a  living  green 
covering  over  fields  that  had  been  drenched  with 
blood.  New  branches  had  grown  on  trees  whose 
foliage  had  been  scorched  away  by  shot  and  shell. 
In  the  hearts  of  men,  the  bitterness  was  dying  out. 

In  the  beautiful  Autumn,  Mrs.  Fairfax  planned  to 
give  as  fine  a  party  as  Bellaire  had  ever  witnessed,  to 
celebrate  her  daughter's  birthday  anniversary,  and 
her  emancipation  from  little-girl-dom. 

Sally  Burgoyne,  too,  was  to  come  out  of  the  chry- 
salis state.  After  much  conferring,  much  deep 
thought  as  to  the  proper  management  of  the  dif- 
ficult problem,  that  of  allowing  one  to  attend  the  com- 
ing-out party  of  the  other,  while  that  one  was  not  yet 
in  society,  it  was  decided  that  the  party  should  be  a 
dual  affair.  It  must  be  on  Zoe's  birthday,  so,  at  Zoe's 
house;  but,  the  girls  would  be  introduced  and  receive 


172  Jasper  Fairfax. 

the  congratulations  of  their  friends,  together,  with 
their  mothers. 

There  was  much  planning,  many  consultations,  but 
it  came  to  pass  that  every  least  particular  of  the  party 
was  arranged  a  full  month  ahead  of  time.  Never  was 
anything  in  the  wide  world  so  important.  The  two 
debutantes  talked  of  nothing  else,  and  all  their  friends 
were  glad  in  their  gladness.  Their  dresses,  of  course 
would  be  simple,  but  elegant,  perfect.  Then,  when 
all  had  been  arranged,  when  the  dance  programme 
had  been  revised  and  re-revised  until  it  was  satisfac- 
tory, then,  what  should  happen  to  create  in  advance 
the  most  inexpressible  raptures,  the  most  joyful 
astonishment ! 

It  was  Sally  who  brought  the  news.  Her  father 
had  carried  home  a  letter  for  her,  late  in  the  afternoon 
and  had  thrown  it,  with  other  mail  on  a  table  in  the 
hall.  There,  more  than  an  hour  afterwards,  she  had 
found  it. 

What  matter  if  it  was  late?  Was  she  to  wait  all 
that  night,  and  into  the  next  day  to  tell  Zoe  the  good 
news?  Not  while  she  had  her  safe,  fleet  saddle  horse 
and  her  faithful  groom,  Julius  Cesar. 

The  Fairfax  family  were  enjoying  the  short  half- 
hour  before  dinner.  They  were  in  the  wide  hall,  a 
blazing  log  was  in  the  big  fire-place,  but  doors  and 
windows  stood  open.  Mrs.  Fairfax  sat  in  the  corner 
close  by  the  jamb,  a  light  shawl  over  her  shoulders. 
It  was  a  habit  she  had  taken  up  lately.  When  her 
brother  said,  "Are  you  cold  Marcia?  "  she  answered, 
"  No,  I'm  getting  old ;"  and  smiled  an  answer  to  her 
husband's  anxious  look.  Zoe  said; 


Jasper  Fairfax.  173 

"  It's  a  pretty  shawl,  mama,  and  you  look  pretty 
in  it." 

Her  father  said:  "Mama  ought  to  be  putting  on 
more  flesh.  I  think  after  this  party's  over,  we'll  go 
south  somewhere  for  the  winter." 

Then  was  heard  the  clatter  of  hoofs,  and  out  by 
the  steps,  were  seen  Sally  Burgoyne  and  her  groom. 
Before  the  black  boy  could  dismount  and  offer  his 
back  for  a  stepping  block.  Colonel  Fairfax  had  run 
down  the  steps  and  lifted  the  girl  from  the  saddle. 

"  Why,  what  in  the  world  is  the  matter?  "  he  asked 
as  he  saw  how  excited  she  was.  Her  cheeks  were 
like  pomegranite  blossoms,  her  eyes  seemed  to  emit 
sparks  of  brightness. 

Zoe  was  at  her  side.  As  soon  as  she  could  speak, 
and  while  she  was  embracing  her  friend  in  her  own 
whirlwind  fashion,  Sally  exclaimed: 

"Oh  Zoe!  darling!  the  best  news!  Here's  the  let- 
ter, but,  don't  bother  to  read  it — Guido's  coming!" 

It  was  too  much  for  words.  After  all  these  years 
of  anticipating,  of  castle-building ;  after  so  many  post- 
ponements, now,  to  come  as  the  crown  of  the  great 
event!  The  girls  subsided,  upon  a  settee  still  clasped 
in  each  other's  arms.  Westlake  laughed  silently, 
and  looked  from  the  girls,  such  a  vivid  picture  as  they 
made,  to  his  sister  and  her  husband. 

Fairfax  had  placed  a  chair  in  front  of  the  fire,  and 
sat  upon  it  very  straight,  and  looked  very  much  in- 
terested. When  he  had  a  chance  to  speak,  he  said: 

"  Now  what  will  happen  next  for  you  two  fortun- 
ates!  Is  Guido's  mother  coming?  " 

"Oh  yes!  "  Sally  answered,  and  she  took  the  letter 
from  the  envelope.  They  are  always  together,  and 


174  Jasper  Fairfax. 

here  is  something  for  you,  Zoe,  listen:  'Tell  Miss 
Fairfax  that  I  shall  expect  my  formal  invitation 
to  her  part  of  the  debut  party  to  be  waiting  for  me. 
As  she  is  your  senior  by  a  trifle  I  shall  claim  the 
honor  of  dancing  the  second  number  on  the  program 
with  her.  It's  likely  she  will  give  the  first  to  some 
member  of  her  family.  Third  number,  I  hope  to 
dance  with  my  sweet  cousin  Sally." 

"  Isn't  it  too  delightful!  A  real  Count  at  my  first 
real  party!  Oh  me!  "  and  Zoe  clasped  her  hands  in 
ecstacy. 

"  Zoe,  suppose  he  doesn't  dance  well?  "  said  West- 
lake. 

"Oh  but  he  does,  doesn't  he  Sally?  " 

"Oh  surely!  He's  always  danced.  He  danced 
beautifully  when  we  were  in  Madrid" 

Mrs.  Fairfax  felt  that  this  would  be  a  great  social 
triumph.  However  radicals  like  her  husband  might 
look  askance  at  John  Burgoyne,  this  young  relation 
of  his  was  a  gentleman  beyond  question.  He  and  his 
mother  would  arrive  a  few  days  before  the  party. 
There  would  be  ample  time  for  exchange  of  civilities 
and,  next  after  the  debutantes,  the  Countess  Castle- 
mere  should  be  the  guest  of  honor. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  175 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

The  passengers  and  crew  aboard  La  Paris  when 
that  stout  steamer  was  battling  with  unprecedented 
storms  on  her  way  from  Havre  to  New  York  had 
many  anxious  hours;  but,  doubtless  in  their  trouble 
they  would  have  smiled  could  they  have  known  clair- 
voyantly  or  otherwise,  the  anxiety  of  two  far  inland 
American  girls,  concerning  the  steamer  for  the  sake 
of  one  handsome  young  man  amongst  them. 

Sally  and  Zoe  imagined  the  big  steamer  out  on  the 
waves  with  only  Guido.  He  was  alone  on  the  wide 
decks.  He  lounged  or  read,  or  made  music  in  the 
elegant  saloon,  he  sat  at  all  the  tables;  he  slept  in  all 
the  state  rooms.  There  was  a  multitude  of  him. 
Each  one  of  the  many  pictures  he  had  sent  had 
materialized.  He  was  several  beautiful  little  boys. 
He  was  a  student  in  cap  and  gown.  He  was  a  grace- 
ful polo-player.  He  was  captain  of  a  reckless  foot- 
ball team.  He  was  the  champion  skater  amongst 
the  dikes  and  ditches  of  Holland.  He  was  Don  Fer- 
nando in  an  amateur  theatrical  company. 

Great  was  the  trouble  caused  by  the  delayed 
steamer.  Every  morning,  Sally  and  Zoe  met  at  West- 
lake's  office  to  get  the  earliest  glimpse  of  his  day  old 
New  York  paper.  How  dreadful  were  those  head- 
lines: "No  news  of  La  Paris:  Two  days  over  due." 
Then  three  days,  four  days,  five  and  six.  The  girls 
thought  seriously  of  deferring  the  party.  How  could 
they  be  glad  and  gay,  not  knowing  what  had  hap- 


176  Jasper  Fairfax. 

pened,  not  knowing  at  what  moment  the  most  shock- 
ing news  might  come?  On  the  seventh  day,  oh 
rapture!  They  needed  not  to  wait  for  the  clumsy 
printing  presses,  the  creeping  trains.  Colonel  Bur- 
goyne  had  a  telegram  from  Guido.  The  vessel  was 
in,  crippled,  and  with  captain,  crew  and  passengers 
sadly  worn.  The  telegram  was  sent  before  all  the 
landing  formalities  had  been  complied  with.  Very 
soon,  the  travellers  would  start  on  their  long  railway 
journey. 

No  more  news  until  the  morning  of  the  day  before 
the  party.  Then  only  a  few  words  from  a  breakfast 
station.  If  nothing  happened  the  foreigners  would 
arrive  late  that  day. 

They  made  quite  a  company  as  they  stepped  upon 
the  platform  of  the  Bellaire  station  where  Colonel 
Burgoyne  and  Sally  met  them.  There  was  the 
Countess,  a  tall  large  woman  with  dark  eyes  and 
snow-white  hair.  Count  Guido,  his  man,  his  mother's 
maid,  and  an  elderly  man,  tall,  broad,  dark  of  face 
and  gray  of  hair.  This  last  seemed  to  have  all  the 
care  of  the  whole  party.  He  carried  the  baggage 
checks,  gave  all  orders,  and  he  alone  of  the  three 
servants  spoke  to  Burgoyne.  It  was  noticed  by  the 
usual  crowd  of  loungers  about  a  railway  station  that 
this  elderly  servant  not  only  spoke  to  the  ex-consul, 
but  that  they  shook  hands  most  cordially.  This,  how- 
ever, passed  as  nothing  save  evidence  of  long  servit- 
ude and  appreciation  of  it  by  a  relation  of  the 
Countess. 

In  the  rebound  of  spirits  Sally  and  Zoe  were  more 
joyous  than  before.  Surely  now  kindly  fate  would 


Jasper  Fairfax.  177 

let  nothing  happen  to  cheat  them  out  of  the  glory  of 
a  perfect  evening. 

Nothing  happened  that  cast  more  than  a  flitting 
shade  over  their  bright  faces.  Countess  Castlemere 
did  not  feel  equal  to  meeting  strangers  after  her 
wearisome  journey.  She  remained  at  home  to  rest, 
so  said  the  Burgoyne  party  when  they  presented 
themselves  without  her. 

But  the  young  Count,  Guido!  Zoe  in  her  shining 
white  silk,  her  fair  hair  coiled  high  on  her  head,  and 
ornamented  with  a  half  blown  rose  as  crimson  as  her 
lips,  lifted  her  eyes  as  Colonel  Burgoyne  said: 

"  Cousin  Guido  let  me  introduce  you  to  the  fairest 
of  all  American  girls." 

She  met  the  expectant,  inquiring  gaze  of  a  pair  of 
luminous  dark  eyes  below  a  broad  smoothe  forehead, 
that  was  shaded  with  curling  hair,  black  at  first 
glance,  but  taking  on  a  glint  of  bronze  in  a  strong 
light.  The  dark  face  was  smoothe  and  boyish  and 
beautiful.  There  was  a  smiling  alertness  in  look  and 
manner  as  if  he  were  continually  anticipating  some- 
thing new  and  delightful.  He  was  tall,  slight,  and 
graceful  in  every  movement.  His  manner  towards 
herself  was  something  new,  even  to  Zoe.  He  was  so 
gentle,  so  deferential,  so  quick  to  discover  her 
thoughts. 

They  had  their  first  dance  together,  a  plain 
quadrille,  and  when  it  was  over,  he  said  as  he  led  her 
to  a  seat  by  her  mother,  "Ah,  that  was  lovely!  but, 
we  must  have  a  waltz."  Bye  and  bye  they  had  it, 
the  graceful,  swaying,  Spanish  waltz  with  guitar  and 
castanets  added  to  the  music,  and  the  heavier  in- 
struments hushed,  Zoe  had  inly  determined  as 


178  Jasper  Fairfax. 

soon  as  she  heard  that  Guido  was  coming,  to  have 
this  dance  with  him.  As  she  swung  round  and 
round  amongst  the  ethers,  she  wondered  how  she 
ever  could  have  supposed  she  had  danced  before. 
This  new  friend,  this  long  heard-of  cousin  of  Sally's 
was  the  very  spirit  of  music  and  motion.  His  firm 
slender  hands  scarcely  touched  her,  and  yet,  guided 
by  them  she  seemed  to  fairly  float  on  the  waves  of 
the  music. 

Mrs.  Fairfax,  watching  them,  approached  her 
husband :  "  How  beautiful  Zoe  is  to-night." 

"  Yes,"  he  answered  and  sighed. 

"And  the  young  Count ;-isn't  he  very  handsome?" 

"  Yes,"  he  answered  again  absently.  After  a  pause, 
"  He  resembles  Burgoyne  in  a  measure,  but  there's 
something  else  about  him  that  is  familiar  but  I  can't 
make  it  out." 

"Oh  he's  a  much  finer  type  of  man  than  Colonel 
Burgoyne.  I  hope  Zoe's  fancy  will  not  out-run  his 
own,"  and  Mrs.  Fairfax  forced  a  little  interrogative 
laugh  while  she  watched  her  husband's  face. 

"  I  hope  so  too,"  he  answered  as  if  he  was  thinking 
of  something  else.  "  I  believe  it's  Hawthorne's  Do- 
natella he  recalls." 

"  What  an  idea! — But,  we  can  see  his  ears,  they're 
human.  I'm  sorry  his  mother  couldn't  come." 

"  It's  more  graceful  for  her  not  to  be  here  until 
after  calls  are  exchanged." 

Sally  Burgoyne  divided  the  honors  equally  with 
Zoe.  Never  had  she  appeared  so  fairly  scintillant  in 
her  dark  beauty.  When  she  and  Guido  were  part- 
ners in  a  quadrille  she  whispered  a  word  to  the  leader 
of  the  musicians  and  the  stately  measure  changed  to  a 


Jasper  Fairfax.  179 

mad  gallop.  She  improvised  steps,  whirls,  balances, 
chasees,  all  with  a  pressure  of  her  finger,  a  glance  of 
her  eye,  and  never  once  confused  or  interrupted  the 
other  dancers.  She  and  Guido  made  an  elaborate 
embroidery  on  the  plain  figures  of  the  dance.  They 
were  the  sparkle  of  champagne  on  the  decorous 
glass  of  sherry. 

"  My  dear,"  Burgoyne  said  to  his  wife  who  sat  in 
a  group  of  which  Fairfax  was  one,  "  Look  at  those 
two  spirits  of  mischief.  Now  will  you  and  Cousin 
Sally  have  your  trouble  all  over  again.  Colonel," 
turning  to  Fairfax,  "that  pair  of  youngsters,  a  few 
years  ago  were  the  worst  boy  and  girl  in  Madrid." 

"  But,  dear,  they  were  not  bad,  they  were  only 
full  of  spirit,  as  they  are  now,"  said  Mrs.  Burgoyne. 

"I'm  sure,"  Fairfax  remarked  smiling  "  that  if  their 
sins  are  always  as  graceful  as  they  are  to-night  they 
may  be  easily  pardoned." 

"Certainly,  certainly,"  Burgoyne  answered.  "What 
most  astonishes  me  is  their  perfect  understanding  of 
each  other.  It  takes  but  the  crook  of  a  finger,  the 
lift  of  an  eye-lash,  and,  away  they  go." 

"  How  well  they  mark  the  time  and  yet  put  in  all 
those  extras,  and  fill  the  requirements  of  the  formal 
figure,"  said  Mrs.  Jerome. 

Fairfax  listened  and  answered  while  his  thoughts 
were  away  in  the  past  when  other  companies  danced 
the  hours  away  in  these  same  rooms.  Some  of  the 
old-time  dancers  were  here,  looking  on  at  their 
daughters,  as  he  looked  on  at  his.  It  seemed  such 
a  short  time  since  he,  a  child,  had  danced  with  other 
children  and  looked  over  his  shoulder,  or  his  little 
partner's  head,  at  his  lovely,  girlish  mother.  Then 


180  Jasper  Fairfax. 

she  was  gone,  and  for  a  long  time,  most  of  the  dances 
were  in  the  other  house.  As  this  thought  crossed 
his  mind,  Castlemere  passed  with  Fanny  Jerome  on 
his  arm.  What  a  good  dancer,  what  a  free  hearted, 
rollicking  comrade  the  girl's  mother  was  in  the  old 
days!  What  a  warm,  true  womanly  friend  she  was 
still!  In  the  old  days  the  charm  of  the  time  was — 
but  why  think  of  her? 

The  night  was  warm  and  full  of  the  spicy  odors 
of  Autumn.  The  doors  and  the  long  windows  all 
stood  open.  Many  of  the  dancers  were  on  the 
verandas,  still  keeping  time  to  waltz,  polka  or  schot- 
tische.  Others  of  the  company  walked  up  and  down, 
resting,  they  said.  The  full  moon  made  the  ample 
veranda,  draped  here  and  there  with  vines,  still  in 
their  summer  green,  an  ideal  surrounding  for  the 
scene  of  gaiety  within.  Many  of  the  chairs,  settees 
and  hammocks  were  occupied.  Pairs  in  the  shadier 
spots  meant  "the  old  story"  rehearsed  once  more 
to  the  sounds  of  music,  dancing  feet  and  all  the  jol- 
lity of  youth. 

It  was  on  the  veranda  that  looked  down  the  avenue 
of  beeches  that  Sally  Burgoyne  stood  with  her  cousin 
surrounded  by  a  half  dozen  others.  Colonel  Fairfax 
was  not  far  away.  He  and  Dr.,  Dome,  the  only 
one  now,  were  walking  about  and  recalling  old  times, 
which,  judging  by  tones  and  frequent  laughter  must 
have  been  pleasant. 

Suddenly,  from  the  direction  of  the  ruin,  a  shriek 
rang  out  on  the  night.  It  was  long  and  loud,  and 
repeated  over  and  over.  Everybody  heard  it,  even 
the  dancers  inside,  above  the  sound  of  the  music,  a 


Jasper  Fairfax.  181 

full  silver  band,  playing  a  quick  step  schottische  ar- 
ranged from  the  air  of  "  Way  down  South  in  Dixie." 

All  was  noisy  confusion,  or  pale-lipped  silence. 
The  music  stopped,  and  players,  dancers,  chaperones, 
servants,  all  crowded  the  veranda.  To  the  hurried 
questions  and  breathless  exclamations,  Fairfax 
answered.  "It's  nothing  but  a  frightened  darkey; — 
it  can  be  nothing  else."  He  reminded  his  neighbors 
of  the  foolish  notions  of  the  blacks  in  regard  to  the 
ruin.  In  the  midst  of  his  laughing  assurances,  all 
heard  some  one  running  rapidly,  gasping  and  groan- 
ing. Evidently  a  man,  large  and  clumsy,  was  coming 
up  the  beech  avenue.  Fairfax  descended  the  steps 
and  stood  on  the  walk  in  the  full  moonlight.  Direct- 
ly the  runner  was  in  view,  hatless,  coatless,  mouth 
open,  eyes  rolling. 

"  Why,  Tim,  Tim,  so  it's  you?  What  can  be  the 
matter?  What's  happened?" 

"Oh  Mas'  Jaspa!  Oh  good  Lawd!  Oh  de 
ghoses !  Oh  Lawd !  "  and  the  negro  dropped  on  the 
walk  at  his  master's  feet. 

"  There  Tim,  wait  for  your  breath ;  you  left  it  with 
the  ghosts,"  and  Fairfax  laughed  with  his  guests  who 
had  joined  him  on  the  walk.  A  bevy  of  girls  came 
tripping  down  the  steps,  but  their  host  playfully 
"shoo-ed"  them  back  reminding  them  of  their  slippers 
and  the  heavy  dew  that  lay  on  the  walk.  He  with  a 
number  of  the  men  stood  by  Tim  and  bantered  him 
with  many  derisive  ha-has,  about  the  ghosts  that  had 
given  him  chase.  As  soon  as  Tim  had  recovered  his 
breath  he  rose  from  the  ground,  and  most  solemnly 
insisted  that  he  had  not  only  seen  the  ghosts,  but  he 
had  heard  them. 


1 82  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"  But,"  said  Doctor  Dome,  "  you  know  Tim  that 
ghosts  are  quiet  folk.  We  always  say  'as  still  as  a 
spook.' " 

"  Dat's  all  right,  doctah,  but  I  done  hear  dat  ghos' 
laff  an'  laff.  I  seed  de  two  of  em  in  de  grave  ya'd.' 

"  For  heaven's  sake  Tim!  "  from  Westlake,  "what 
were  you  doing  in  the  grave  yard?  " 

"  Well  Mistah  Westlake,  da's  on'y  one  right  time  fo' 
to  cotch  a  rabbit  ef  so  yo'  wants  de  right  kine  o'luck. 
I  done  promise  myse'f  I'd  git  Missy  Zoe  a  rabbit's 
foot,  an'  dis  berry  night  was  de  time.  See  dat  big 
roun'  moon?  " 

Amidst  the  chorus  of  laughter,  Fairfax  exclaimed: 
"  Sure  enough !  Tim,  it's  an  outrage  of  the  ghosts 
to  interfere  with  you  on  such  an  undertaking!  And 
you  didn't  get  the  rabbit?  " 

"  No  sah.  Hit's  dah  in  de  trap  all  fas'  enough, 
but  dem  two  ghoses  des  come  traspesin  long  wha 
we  done  bury  Victo'  an'  Miss  Salome,  an'  dey  stop 
an'  look  at  de  head  stones,  an'  dey  des  stan'  an'  laff 
an'  laff  lak  dey  done  gone  crazy." 

Said  Phil  Jerome,  "  Perhaps  the  ghosts  were  look- 
ing for  a  rabbit  too." 

"Oh  Lawd,  Mistah  Jerome  /  dun-now  w'at  dey 
look  fo'.  I  des  run  an'  run  an'  dem  ghoses  cla'  guv 
me  de  hoo-doo.  When  I  was  fo'  sho  runin'  towa'ds 
home  hyah  I  fotch  up  way  todeh  side  de  grave  ya'd, 
an'  dah  was  dem  ghoses,  too.  Den  I  tinks  I  make 
a  shoot  fo'  Miss  Agnes'  house,  an'  fo'  Gaud,  dah  was 
dem  ghoses.  An'  one  ghose  hed  a  long  vail  on  huh 
haid,  an'  I  seed  huh  settin  on  dat  big  stun  at 
lays  in  de  flo'  by  de  fi'  place,  an'  she  sot  dah  lookin 
at  de  hole  in  de  back  wall  lak  she's  wa'min'  he  se'f, 


Jasper  Fairfax.  183 

an'  de  man  ghose  he  stan  back  lil  ways,  an'  dey  wasn't 
laffin.  Dey  was  lookin  mighty  solemn.  An'  den  de 
man  ghose  he  say,  'Come  way — dah's  dat  nigga  gen.' 
An'  de  woman  ghose  say,  an'  she  look  at  me  wid  big 
eyes  lak  fi;  'Dat's  Tim.'  Den  I  des  yell  an'  run,  an' 
hyah  I  is." 

Gradually,  as  Tim  told  his  story  a  group  of  scared 
blacks  gathered  on  the  lawn.  This  was  the  greatest 
fright  any  of  them  had  ever  experienced.  Of  all  the 
rabbits  caught  in  the  Fairfax  burying  ground  and 
slaughtered  for  the  sake  of  the  talismanic  foot,  not 
one  of  the  rabbit  hunters  had  ever  had  an  adventure 
like  this.  True,  each  and  every  one  had  seen  a  ghost ; 
but  heretofore,  all  ghosts  had  been  flitting  shadows. 
They  had  been  shy,  keeping  themselves  in  the  denser 
shade  of  tree,  monument,  or  church.  These  two 
hilarious  disembodiments,  while  evidently  not  cour- 
ting the  presence  of  Tim,  were  certainly  careless  of 
it  in  a  measure. 

Fairfax  told  Tim  to  go  to  the  housekeeper  and  get 
a  glass  of  something  to  quiet  his  nerves,  and  when  he 
was  gone,  the  excitement  of  the  fright  seemed  to  the 
guests  only  a  romantic  diversion,  and  Zoe  was  con- 
gratulated. No  other  girl  in  all  the  county  could 
have  such  a  picturesque  adjunct  to  her  birthday 
dance. 

Castlemere  declared  that  it  was  the  most  truly  de- 
lightful ghost  story  he  had  ever  heard  in  any  land 
concerning  any  ruin.  He  must  certainly  see  the 
place. 

In  the  quarters  there  was  much  shaking  of  gray 
heads.  This  appearance  of  Salome's  ghost  on  this 
night,  boded  no  good  to  the  young  daughter  of  the 


184  Jasper  Fairfax. 

house.  Why  should  the  ghost  laugh?  Was  it  be- 
cause of  the  folly  of  her  survivors  in  burying  her  poor 
charred  bones?  There  her  ashes  mingled  with  the 
earth  while  her  restless  spirit  wandered  to  and  fro, 
and  came  to  sit  and  muse  in  the  desolate  house  on 
the  cruelty  that  had  sent  her  hurrying  out  of  life  in 
her  youth  and  glorious  beauty. 

While  the  blacks  had  always  fully  agreed  that  it 
would  have  been  highly  improper  for  'Mas'  Jaspa*  to 
have  married  Salome,  indeed,  not  one  of  them,  know- 
ing who  was  her  mother  would  have  retained  the  least 
atom  of  respect  for  him  had  he  done  so,  still,  when 
speaking  of  her,  and  her  visits  to  the  ruin,  the  stories 
were  always  tinged  with  the  jealousy  that  the  dead 
girl  must  feel  towards  the  woman  who  was  the  wife 
of  her  lover. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  185 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

"  Don't  you  think  he  is  much  handsomer  than  any 
of  his  photographs?  " 

"  Yes,  very  much.  He  has  so  much  animation. 
There  is  a  peculiar  charm  in  the  rapid  changes  of  his 
face.  His  eyes  seem  to  change  color  with  his 
thoughts;"  and  Mrs.  Fairfax  drew  her  shawl  a  little 
closer  about  her,  and  fanned  herself  languidly.  She 
looked  at  Zoe  meditatively.  In  her  mind's  eye  she 
saw  her  fair  daughter  in  another  white  gown,  and 
with  orange  blossoms,  instead  of  a  red  red  rose  in  her 
hair. 

"  Tell  me  what  you  think  of  him,  Uncle  Westlake;" 
and  Zoe  tapped  his  shoulder  with  her  fan.  Since  she 
had  awakened,  about  noon,  she  had  talked  of  little 
else  than  Castlemere  on  this  day  after  the  dance.  Her 
mother  had  been  a  sympathetic  listener,  but  now  that 
her  father  and  her  uncle  were  at  home  she  began  to 
wonder  that  they  had  no  word  of  praise  for  the  hand- 
some foreigner. 

Spoken  to  directly,  Westlake  said: 

"  The  fellow's  good  looking,  and  I  guess  he's  got 
money,  and,  he'll  make  his  way  wherever  he  goes. 
He's  quite  a  little  like  Burgoyne,  but, — " 

"Oh  Uncle!  he  doesn't  seem  to  me  in  the  least  like 
Colonel  Burgoyne.  Does  he  to  you  mania?  " 

"  Why  dear,  they  are  the  same  in  some  ways ;  both 
are  tall  and  dark; — the  same  type  you  know,  and 


1 86  Jasper  Fairfax. 

their  features  are  something  the  same.  Guido  is  only 
slighter,  and  their  manners  are  different." 

"  The  Count  is  one  generation  later,"  said  West- 
lake.  "  He's  had  better  training.  As  far  as  money 
goes,  he's  to  all  intents  a  born  gentlemen.  Burgoyne 
has  more  the  appearance  of  a  self-made  man,  and  as 
if  he  had  got  sick  of  the  job  before  he  put  in  his 
brains,  and  didn't  mix  enough  to  fill  his  big  skull." 

"Or  as  if,"  Fairfax  interrupted,  with  a  blink  at  his 
wife,  "he  had  happened  to  be  near  an  abattoir  and 
had  bundled  in  a  hog's." 

Zoe  gave  a  shout  of  laughter  and  then,  "  Papa,  I'm 
shocked.  You  have  no  regard  for  high  station." 

"  If  Burgoyne  had  only  a  little  money  he  wouldn't 
seem  half  so  vulgar,"  said  Westlake. 

"  From  battle  and  murder  and  sudden  wealth, 
good  Lord  deliver  us,"  Zoe  mumbled,  tapping  her 
fingers  with  her  fan. 

"  Zoe !  "  her  mother  exclaimed  reprovingly. 

"  Mama,  you  remember  those  two  families  we  met 
last  year  at  White  Sulphur,  and  how  deplorably  vul- 
gar they  were.  I'm  sure  they  would  have  been  a 
very  good  sort  of  people  if  they  had  had  no  money, 
or  not  enough  to  make  them  pretentious." 

"  Their  children  will  be  the  better  for  the  experi- 
ence of  their  parents;  and  no  doubt  their  grand  child- 
ren will  have  quite  outgrown  their  low  origin,  and 
will  be  fine  strong  characters." 

"  Yes,  but  the  parents  might  have  saved  them- 
selves many  humiliations,  if  they're  not  too  thick 
skinned  to  feel,  if  they  had  taken  time  to  cultivate  a 
few  graces  of  mind  while  they  were  getting  rich." 

"My  dear  niece,  war  doesn't  last  forever,  for  which 


Jasper   Fairfax.  187 

the  saints  be  praised,  and  those  people  you  mention 
had  to  strike  while  the  cannons  were  hot.  The  neces- 
sities of  the  country  were  their  opportunity.  They 
piled  up  their  dollars  while  they  were  to  be  gathered, 
and  now  they  go  to  White  Sulphur,  and  the  rest  and 
offend  the  inherited  and  acquired  tastes  of  the  daugh- 
ter of  a  hundred  Fairfaxs." 

"  Do  you  really  think  mama,  that  it  is  only  culture 
that  makes  Count  Castlemere  different  from  Colonel 
Burgoyne?  It  seems  to  me  they  never  could  have 
been  in  the  least  alike  if  they  had  always  lived  to- 
gether, and  always  done  the  same  things." 

"  I  cannot  say,  my  dear.  One's  surroundings 
make  a  great  difference." 

Westlake  had  continually  watched  Fairfax  as  he 
walked  up  and  down  the  room  with  his  hands  thrown 
behind  him.  He  had  seemed  not  to  notice  what  was 
said,  but  Westlake's  habitual  half  smile  broadened 
when  Zoe  said  suddenly: 

"  Papa  you  haven't  given  us  one  word.  Now, 
please  to  say,  'decisive  and  clear,  without  one  if  or 
but,'  what  you  think  of  Count  Castlemere." 

Fairfax  glanced  at  his  brother-in-law,  at  his  wife, 
and  then,  his  gaze  resting  on  his  daughter,  while  a 
smile  twitched  the  corners  of  his  eyes,  he  said :  "  I 
think  he's  a  nigger." 

"  Papa  Fairfax ! "  and  Zoe  was  out  of  her  chair  in 
a  twinkling  and  seizing  her  father  by  his  lapels  held 
him  still. 

Westlake  laughed  uproariously.  Mrs.  Fairfax 
made  a  deprecating  gesture  with  her  fan,  then  laugh- 
ed behind  it  to  see  her  brother  shed  mirthful  tears. 

"  Truly  papa,  you're  joking?  " 


1 88  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"  Truly,  I'm  not.  For  the  last  year  or  two  you've 
known  what  I  think,  what  I've  thought  from  the  first 
of  Mr.  Burgoyne,  ex-colonel,  ex-consul,  though  he 
be.  This  boy  is  a  relation  of  his,  and,  most  probably 
he  has  a  white  father;  but  true  to  heredity,  he  is  al- 
most sure  to  be  like  his  mother.  Wait  till  we  see  her. 
He  has  all  the  marks  of  a  mixture  of  races  as  plain  as 
Burgoyne's,  though  he  has  been  filtered  through  one 
more  generation  of  white  blood,  and  has  had  all  that 
money  can  buy  to  tone  down  the  black  drop." 

"  Colonel,  it  is  the  oddest  thing  to  me  to  see  you 
pounce  upon  dark-haired  people  as  you  do.  Marcia, 
it  must  have  been  your  fair  hair  that  caught  him." 

Mrs.  Fairfax  laughed,  glancing  at  her  husband 
and  daughter  as  they  walked  up  and  down  the  length 
of  the  room  together. 

"  Marcia  knew  the  girl  of  my  first  love  affair.  Her 
hair  was  not  dark ;  it  was  burnished  copper." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Fairfax,  "  her  hair  was  very 
beautiful;  the  most  peculiarly  beautiful  I  ever  saw/ 

"  Her  complexion  was  beautiful  too.  Her  hair 
was  the  color  of  her  father's  with  the  silky  kink  of 
her  mother's  added.  As  soon  as  I  knew  beyond  a 
doubt  that  she  was  not  my  cousin  I  wondered  how  I 
could  have  over-looked  the  strong  marks  of  the  ne- 
gro. An  experience  of  that  sort  I  think  would  make 
an  impression  on  any  man.  I,  at  least  couldn't  be 
fooled  a  second  time." 

"  You  might  possibly  be  mistaken,"  said  Mrs.  Fair- 
fax. 

"  I  might,  but  I'd  venture  my  bottom  dollar  and 
my  ultimate  acre  on  Burgoyne." 


Jasper  Fairfax.  189 

"  Cousin  Guido  too,  papa?  "  and  Zoe  dragged  on 
his  arm  and  smiled. 

"  Cousin  Guido  too,  sweet.  He's  a  later  edition  of 
the  same  story.  The  print  is  clearer,  more  easily 
read  but  the  binding  is  the  same:  quarter  morocco, 
with  gilt  edges." 

"Oh  papa!  papa!"  and  Zoe  turned  to  face  her 
uncle  who  was  laughing  silently,  and  her  mother  who 
wore  an  apologetic  smile. 

"  No  my  dear,"  Fairfax  said  seriously.  "  While 
Cousin  Guido  and  his  mother  are  guests  of  Mrs.  Bur- 
goyne,  we  must  be  civil  to  them.  Mrs.  Burgoyne, 
though  weak,  is  a  good  woman.  She's  the  salvation 
of  the  whole  pack.  I  can't  imagine  how  she  hap- 
pens to  be  there.  But  we  want  no  more  of  these 
foreigners  than  is  absolutely  unavoidable." 

This  fiat  threw  a  chill  over  the  spirits  of  the  family. 
Through  all  the  years  of  the  acquaintance  with  Col- 
onel Burgoyne's  household,  though  Mrs.  Fairfax  and 
her  brother  knew  of  the  estimate  put  upon  the  head 
of  the  family  by  Colonel  Fairfax,  yet  they  never  heard 
him  object  to  the  constant  inercourse  of  the  children. 
He  was  polite  to  Burgoyne,  and  exceedingly  kind  to 
the  pale  wife.  This  ingratiating  young  foreigner  was 
a  different  matter. 

There  was  a  silence  that  came  near  being  awkward. 
Then  dinner  was  announced. 

In  the  course  of  the  rather  dull  evening,  just  as 
Zoe  was  beginning  to  hear  again  the  dance  music 
spinning  through  her  head,  and  was  dreading  the 
necessary  preparations  for  bed,  Westlake  looked  up 
from  his  newspaper,  saying: 

"  Listen  to  this,  Colonel,  here's  a  chance  for  an 


190  Jasper  Fairfax. 

English  title  for  you;  at  any  rate,  it's  your  name. 
This  is  the  London  letter  in  the  Tribune." 

"Yes?  read  it.  Don't  wait  Zoe,  dear,  if  you're 
sleepy." 

"Oh  I'm  not  so  very  sleepy,  let  me  lean  against 
you  and  hear  too,"  and  she  pulled  a  hassock  to  her 
father's  feet  and  leaned  her  head  against  his  knee. 

Westlake  read: 

"  Here  is  a  strange  sad  story  of  a  title  going  a- 
begging  and  a  fine  estate  about  to  revert  to  the 
Crown. 

Three  months  ago  there  lived  in  Treslyn  Castle 
Lord  Treslyn,  nearing  his  eightieth  year,  his  son, 
Leigh  Fairfax,  about  twenty  five  years  younger,  his 
wife,  son  and  two  daughters.  Now,  the  octogenarian 
is  the  sole  male  representative  of  the  house  of  Tres- 
lyn. The  older  son  of  Leigh  Fairfax,  also  Leigh, 
had  been  married  for  some  years,  but  had  no  child- 
ren. Two  and  a  half  months  ago,  he  was  drowned 
by  the  wrecking  of  his  yacht.  This,  while  a  terrible 
grief  to  the  family,  yet  did  not  leave  them  desolate. 
There  remained  Guy,  who  was  preparing  to  be  mar- 
ried to  the  daughter  of  a  fine  old  Scottish  family. 
Four  weeks  ago  his  horse  came  home  riderless,  and 
the  young  man  was  found  dead  in  one  of  the  far  cor- 
ners of  the  park.  It  seemed  the  horse  had  shied  at 
a  ragged  piece  of  paper,  and  Guy  Fairfax,  one  of  the 
most  daring  riders  in  England  lay  stone  dead  by  a 
tree  trunk,  his  head  and  face  covered  with  his  blood. 

"  When  the  mother  was  told  of  the  terrible  ac- 
cident she  fell  in  what  was  supposed  to  be  a  swoon, 
but  she  never  opened  her  eyes  again.  The  father 
went  about,  tearless,  attending  to  all  matters  per- 


Jasper  Fairfax.  191 

taining  to  the  sad  time,  speaking  to  no  one,  excepting 
when  absolutely  necessary,  but  breathing  such  sighs 
as  breaks  the  heart,  and  exclaiming:  "My  sons!  my 
sons !  light  of  my  eyes !  " 

"After  the  funerals  were  over  he  took  to  his  bed 
with  brain  fever.  He  died  on  the  ninth  day.  The 
two  daughters  remain,  but  by  the  terms  of  the  entail 
they  cannot  inherit.  Old  Lord  Treslyn  sits  in  his 
castle  with  no  near  relation,  if  any  to  follow  him. 
The  daughters  of  the  house  always  receive  a  liberal 
dower.  At  the  death  of  their  grandfather,  the  two 
Fairfax  girls  will  be  under  the  guardianship  of  the 
Crown.  It  is  said  that  there  is  an  American  branch 
of  the  family,  and  Lord  Treslyn  will  send  his  solicitor 
to  look  them  up." 

Fairfax  was  again  walking  the  floor. 

"Ah  that  is  terrible!  terrible!  " 

"  Do  you  think,  dear,"  Mrs.  Fairfax  asked  "that 
they  are  your  relations  whom  you  visited?  " 

"  The  names  are  all  correct,  but,  the  whole  story 
may  be  a  fabrication.  It  doesn't  seem  possible." 

"  But,  papa,  suppose  it  is  all  true.  Are  you  the 
next  of  kin?  " 

"  Yes,  as  far  as  we  knew.  Let  me  see :  It  was  two 
years  before  the  war  when  I  was  there.  Leigh  Fair- 
fax was  as  pleasant  a  man  as  one  would  care  to  meet. 
Lord  Treslyn,  then  about  sixty,  or  a  year  or  two 
younger  was  jovial  and  hale,  a  fine  rider,  full  of  life 
as  a  boy  of  twenty,  and  dotingly  fond  of  his  grand- 
children. They  were  little  tots  then.  Our  relation- 
ship was  talked  of  until  we  knew  the  exact  remove 
of  cousin  we  were,  and  Leigh's  two  boys  made  great 
pretense  of  fear  that  I  would  steal  them  away  and 


192  Jasper  Fairfax. 

drown  them  or  hide  them  in  the  woods  to  starve  so 
as  to  be  Lord  Treslyn  myself  some  day." 

"And  now  to  think  of  it!  Why  Colonel,  you're 
the  luckiest  man  alive?  " 

"  Yes,  I  reckon  I'm  lucky  enough,"  and  it  was  a 
strange  smile  that  lit  up  his  face  as  he  drew  a  chair 
close  to  the  table  by  which  Westlake  and  Mrs.  Fair- 
fax sat. 

"  I'm  lucky  enough  without  being  Lord  Treslyn 
and  inheriting  that  great  estate." 

"  Why  Jasper,  you  wouldn't  refuse  it?  " 

"  I'll  not  be  given  the  chance  to  refuse  it." 

"But,  if  there's  no  other?"  and  Mrs.  Fairfax's 
brain  whirled  at  the  thought  of  that  other  Fairfax, 
and  the  possibility  of  her  husband's  abdication  in  his 
favor. 

"  I  believe,  and  Lord  Treslyn  believed  that  I  was 
in  the  direct  line  of  succession  after  his  grandsons. 
Until  the  breaking  out  of  the  war,  I  kept  up  a  cor- 
respondence with  Leigh  Fairfax.  We  addressed 
each  other  affectionately,  as  cousin. 

"  The  first  Lord  Treslyn  received  his  title  and 
land  from  the  hands  of  Henry  the  VII,  at  the  close 
of  the  Wars  of  the  Roses.  They  were  given  as  a 
reward  for  bravery,  and  devotion  to  his  master  and 
king.  The  Leigh  Fairfax  of  that  time  is  supposed 
to  have  been  a  plain  yeoman,  but,  the  story  goes  in 
the  annals  of  the  family  that  he  was  Henry's  scout, 
and  was  a  keen,  sharp-witted  fellow,  entirely  devoted 
to  the  man  he  believed  to  be  king  by  the  grace  of 
God,  against  all  others  who  claimed  the  title. 

"  So,  at  the  final  close  of  the  war,  Henry  bestowed 
upon  this  rough-and-ready  soldier  the  title  of  Lord 


Jasper  Fairfax.  193 

Treslyn,  and  an  immense  estate  with  the  proviso  that 
only  sons  should  inherit  because  only  men  could  be 
soldiers.  A  further  proviso  declared  that  if  any  Fair- 
fax should  be  concerned  in  any  least  plot  against  the 
Government,  in  any  least  rebellious  scheme,  should, 
in  the  language  of  the  Church  engage  in  the  very 
faintest  shading  of  "  sedition,  privy  conspiracy  and 
rebellion,"  then  should  he  forfeit  his  title  and  estate 
if  already  in  possession,  or  be  deemed  ineligible  if 
heir-at-law.  This  proviso  comprehends  foreign  born 
heirs  if  the  English  line  should  fail. 

"  Henry,  it  seems  was  so  glad  to  get  possession  of 
his  throne  at  last,  that  he  meant  only  truly  loyal  men 
should  profit  by  his  gift." 

"  Do  you  think  that  cuts  you  out?  " 

"  It  certainly  does.     I  saw  the  Charter  and  read  it 
through.  I  was  a  faithful  rebel  in  the  late  unpleasant 
ness,  so  I  can  never  be  Lord  Treslyn." 

"  How  I  wish  I  had  a  brother!  " 

"  Yes,  dear,  I  wish  you  had  a  brother;  not  especial- 
ly to  inherit  this  English  fortune  but  for  our  own 
comfort  and  happiness  in  having  one  more  nice  per- 
son in  the  house;  one  more  good  Kentuckian 
and  one  more  Fairfax  to  keep  the  farms." 

Mrs.  Fairfax  and  her  brother  exchanged  glances, 
then  Westlake  said: 

"  I  think  Zoe,  it  would  have  been  a  fine  thing  if 
that  Mr.  Guy  Fairfax  had  come  over  here  and  mar- 
ried you,  and  kept  his  head  whole.  Then  you  see  the 
English  and  American  farms  would  have  been  all  in 
the  family,  and  you'd  have  been  Lady  Treslyn.  I'm 
afraid,"  and  he  laughed,  closing  one  eye,  "that  papa 


194  Jasper  Fairfax. 

won't  consent  to  you  becoming  Countess  Castle- 
mere." 

"Oh  bother  Castlemere!"  Zoe  pouted,  "I  care 
more  for  papa  Fairfax  than  I  do  for  a  title  and  all  the 
rest  of  the  world  of  men,"  and  she  leaned  over  the 
back  of  her  father's  chair,  and  twined  her  arms  about 
his  neck. 

"That's  papa's  own  baby!"  he  answered.  "We 
want  to  hear  nothing  about  titles  and  husbands  for  a 
long  time.  When  a  husband  must  come,  we  prefer 
an  American;  will  be  highly  pleased  with  a  Kentuck- 
ian,  but  will  insist  on  a  white  man.  Now,  darling, 
good-night,  and  sweet  dreams." 


Jasper  Fairfax.  195 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

When  Mrs.  Fairfax  found  herself  alone  with  her 
husband  she  ventured  upon  a  subject  that  had  been  a 
sealed  book  between  them  for  years.  No  second 
quarrel  upon  any  matter  had  ever  arisen  between 
them,  but  she  felt  that  in  that  one  storm  one  half  of 
all  the  romance  of  her  married  life  had  been  swept 
away.  Not  that  her  husband  had  ever  been  unkind 
to  her,  not  that  he  showed  by  word  or  deed  that  he 
remembered  the  quarrel,  excepting  in  one  way:  He 
had  thrown  off  her  petty  tyranny.  He  disposed  of 
his  time,  in  a  measure  without  consulting  her,  or  al- 
lowing her  objections  to  interfere.  When  it  had  been 
a  question  of  going  away  for  the  summer  or  winter. 
or  making  a  trip  anywhere,  he  would  say  readily, 
"  Yes,  we'll  go,"  or  "no,  we  cannot  go,"  for  such  and 
such  reasons.  Or  he  would  say:  "This  or  that  will 
be  the  very  thing  for  you  and  Zoe.  Go  by  all  means 
and  be  comfortable.  I'm  going  hunting,  or  fishing 
or  to  New  York,  or  New  Orleans.  You'll  probably 
feel  lonely  at  home." 

She  could  not  longer  insist  that  she  must  ac- 
company him.  Though  she  regretted  this  lost  thread 
of  dainty  coloring  from  her  life,  yet  in  reviewing  the 
matter  she  confessed  to  herself  it  had  never  really 
been  there.  Her  husband  had  never  believed  in  her 
to  the  extent  she  had  supposed.  He  simply  tolerated 
her  constant  presence. 

He  had  carried  that  tell-tale  photograph  from  the 


196  Jasper  Fairfax. 

battle  of  the  Wilderness  till  the  close  of  the  war,  and 
then  it  was  hidden  away  with,  she  could  guess  with 
burning  cheeks,  what  thoughts  of  herself,  until  the 
quarrel,  that,  she  was  honest  enough  to  confess  she 
had  forced  upon  him. 

When  the  picture  was  sprung  upon  her,  she  could 
scarcely  believe  her  own  senses.  Since  then,  as  often 
as  she  thought  it  all  over  she  felt  that  it  was  a  hor- 
rible nightmare.  How  she  had  posed  as  the  single- 
hearted,  worshiping  wife!  How  she  had  always  re- 
frained from  any  least  mention  of  betrothal  or  even 
of  a  casual  admirer.  Her  husband  had  respected  her 
reticence  only,  while  she  supposed  he  believed  in  her 
as  she  represented  herself.  After  that  night  she 
thought  how  he  must  have  despised  her  while  he 
submitted  to  her  caresses. 

She  never  would  have  guessed  how  surprised  he 
would  have  been  at  her  summing  up  of  the  matter. 
He  had  had  no  unkind  thoughts  of  her,  neither 
before  nor  after  the  quarrel.  The  episode  brought  to 
light  hidden  things  for  her,  not  for  him.  He  revealed 
her  to  herself.  The  revelation  had  been  made  to 
him  long  before.  He  did  not  despise  her  for  having 
had  a  lover,  and  reading  character  as  he  did,  neither 
did  he  despise  the  secrecy  she  maintained  in  regard 
to  the  lover.  All  pretty  girls  had  admirers.  He  knew 
that  Northern  girls  generally  were  not  so  surrounded 
by  care  as  are  Southern  and  European  girls.  He 
knew  that  Marcia  Westlake  had  lived  a  peculiarly 
free,  irresponsible  life.  This  lover  was  only  an  in- 
cident. That  this  lover  had  been  permitted  to  carry 
her  picture  to  camp  and  field  was  not  strange.  The 
excitement  of  the  times,  the  new  and  terrible  sensa- 


Jasper  Fairfax.  197 

tions  that  were  constantly  sweeping  over  the  country^ 
awakened  alien  emotions,  prompted  lash  behaviour. 
The  parting  hours  of  lovers  were  often  fraught  with 
such  consequences  as  the  longest  life,  the  bitterest 
regrets  might  not  efface. 

All  these  excitements,  these  follies  were  labelled 
patriotism;  devotion  to  the  flag;  fidelity  to  the 
soldiers. 

If  the  enemy  had  been  further  away,  across  the 
sea,  even  beyond  the  boundary  line  of  Canada,  war 
would  have  worn  a  different  aspect.  The  call  to  arms 
would  not  have  been  so  imperative,  nor  would  the 
country's  defenders  have  received  thanklessly  so 
many  sacrifices  made  for  them. 

Civil  war  is  the  greatest  of  all  evils.  The  feuds 
amongst  relations  are  the  most  stubborn. 

So  many  old-time  thoughts  came  to  Mrs.  Fairfax 
when  she  wished  to  speak  to  her  husband  in  regard 
to  the  boy  who  bore  his  name.  Assuming  an  air  of 
carelessness  as  she  took  off  her  rings  and  unclasped 
a  bracelet  she  said: 

"  Dear,  do  you  regret  very  much  your  position 
during  the  war?  " 

"Regret!  "  he  stopped  short  in  the  middle  of  the 
room,  smiled  interrogatively,  then,  "what  a  question! 
Why  should  I  regret,  after  all  these  years?  " 

"  Because  of  this  English  title  and  the  fine 
property." 

"Oh  Marcia!  "  he  came  and  sat  near  her.  "  How 
can  you  think  it!  Probably  if  I  were  very  poor — 
I  confess  I  wouldn't  like  to  be  poor,  I  might  covet 
Lord  Treslyn's  position  for  the  ease  it  would  bring 
to  me  and  mine;  but,  I  worked  for  the  Confederacy 


198  Jasper  Fairfax. 

because  I  thought  we  were  right.  I  think  so  still. 
We  suffered  for  the  sins  of  our  fathers,  and  the  blacks 
have  suffered  too,  and  they'll  continue  to  suffer.  No, 
my  wife,  I  have  no  regrets  of  the  kind  you  are 
thinking." 

"  Suppose  we  had  a  son.  Do  you  think  the  fact 
of  you  having  borne  arms  against  the  Government 
would  cut  him  off?  " 

"  No,  I  think  not,"  he  answered  slowly.  "  No, 
my  behaviour  would  not  jeoparidize  the  claims  of  my 
son, — if  I  had  a  son,  if  he  were  not  a  party  to  my 
action." 

"  But  dear,  you  have  a  son." 

"  Nobody  but  you  has  ever  heard  me  say  so,  and 
no  one  else  ever  will." 

"  Why  should  you  deny  it?  " 

"  I  don't  deny  it,  I  simply  ignore  it.  No  one  has 
ever  mentioned  it  to  me  since  Senator  Francis'  letter 
announcing  the  birth  of  the  child  excepting  yourself 
and  Cogswell.  You  remember  his  letter?  During 
our  visit  in  Washington  that  winter,  he  was  quite 
anxious  that  I  should  see  the  boy.  I  told  him  that 
for  me  the  boy  did  not  exist;  that  I  could  not  imagine 
circumstances  that  would  make  me  care  if  he  lived  or 
died.  I  would  not  even  turn  my  head  to  see  him. 
The  soreness  of  the  quarrel  with  his  mother,  and  the 
sting  of  defeat,  were  then,  and  are  still  with  me.  It 
may  be  a  rascally  feeling,  but  I'm  honest  enough  to 
confess  it;  it  would  break  my  heart  to  have  the  son 
of  Adelaide  Francis,  the  grand-son  of  that  haggling 
old  demagogue,  Archibald  Francis,  divide  Fairfax 
Farms  with  Zoe." 

Mrs.  Fairfax's  eyes  brightened  and  a  pink  tinge 


Jasper  Fairfax.  199 

came  into  her  cheeks.  She  leaned  forward  and  kissed 
her  husband  fondly.  A  woman  of  deeper  insight 
would  have  realized  that  the  wounds  must  have  been 
grievous  to  leave  such  lasting  effects.  There  must 
have  been  something  exceedingly  sweet  about  this 
wife  of  a  few  weeks  that  the  loss  of  her  left  such  a 
rankling  bitter. 

"  Then  suppose  Lord  Treslyn  comes  seeking  an 
heir.  Will  you  tell  him  of  this  boy?  " 

"  Not  unless  I'm  cornered  by  some  ferret  of  a 
lawyer." 

"Why  shouldn't  you  help  him  that  much?  It 
would  take  him  out  of  the  country  beyond  the  pos- 
sibility of  making  trouble." 

"  No,  it  would  simply  give  him  and  his  mother  and 
his  grandfather  power.  I  know  old  Francis.  He 
would  hang  me  up  by  the  thumbs  until  he  had  filched 
from  me  half  I'm  worth  for  the  boy,  and  a  good  fat 
price  for  his  maintenance  all  these  years." 

"  Was  nothing  said  of  alimony  at  the  time  of 
separation?" 

"All  that  was  said  was  said  by  myself  and  Phil 
Jerome.  He  was  then  as  now,  in  partnership  with 
Cogswell.  After  I  had  vainly  exhausted  my  rhetoric 
to  induce  Adelaide  to  forego  the  legal  separation,  I 
instructed  Phil  to  agree  to  any  terms  she  proposed, — 
give  her  anything  she  asked  for.  She  asked  for 
nothing,  and  even  said  she  would  resume  her  maiden 
name.  I  suppose  she  was  advised  to  retain  mine  on 
account  of  the  child.  In  case  old  Lord  Treslyn 
makes  inquiries,  I'll  answer  what  questions  I  must. 
I'll  volunteer  no  information." 

For  several  days  the  fatalities  in  the  English  Fair- 


2OO  Jasper  Fairfax. 

fax  family,  and  the  bearing  of  those  fatalities  on  the 
fortunes  of  the  American  cousins,  divided  the  interest 
felt  in  the  recent  arrivals  from  Madrid.  Colonel  Fair- 
fax declared  that,  further  than  his  sympathy  for  the 
family  in  their  sorrow,  he  had  no  feeling  in  the  matter. 
He  wrote  a  long,  kindly  letter  of  condolence  to  Lord 
Treslyn  and  his  grand-daughters,  then  waved  away 
all  mention  of  the  whole  affair. 

Mrs.  Fairfax  and  her  brother,  when  alone  together, 
discussed  the  probability  of  the  young,  un-acknowl- 
edged  Jasper  being  sought  out  to  take  possession 
instead  of  allowing  the  title  to  die,  the  estate  revert 
to  the  Crown.  Zoe,  knowing  nothing  of  this  half- 
brother  never  heard  a  whisper  of  him  in  connection 
with  this  inheritance;  but  she  frequently  remarked 
how  fine  it  would  have  been  to  have  visited  these  far- 
removed  relations.  Probably  she  could  do  so  yet. 
Dr.  Dome  had  recommended  a  sea  voyage  for 
mama.  Towards  Spring  she  would  talk  to  papa  about 
it. 

A  few  days  after  the  London  letter  was  published 
in  the  Tribune  there  was  a  copy  of  it  in  the  Bellaire 
Chronicle.  It  had  been  re-written,  and  appeared, 
doubled-leaded  in  the  local  columns.  It  was  further 
made  interesting  by  the  emphasis  laid  upon  the  fact 
of  the  relationship  of  Colonel  Jasper  Fairfax  to  this 
family,  and,  most  astounding  news  of  all  the  colonel 
was  in  the  direct  line  of  succession  to  the  title  and 
estate. 

But,  this  cup  full  of  wonders  met  with  the  traditional 
slip.  By  the  Colonel's  participation,  on  the  wrong 
side,  in  the  civil  war,  he  had  forfeited  his  rights  to 
this  inheritance. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  201 

Fairfax  suspected  his  brother-in-law  of  the  author- 
ship of  the  article,  or  of  putting  himself  in  the  way  of 
being  interviewed. 

Senator  Cogswell  was  one  of  the  first  of  old  friends 
to  meet  Fairfax  and  extend  congratulations  and  con- 
dolences in  the  same  breath.  It  was  in  the  office  of 
the  Bellaire  House  as  Fairfax  was  going  in  for  noon 
luncheon.  Others  came  up,  Doctor  Dome  amongst 
them. 

"  It's  a  great  pity,"  said  the  doctor,  "that  since  we 
had  to  lose,  we  had  not  lost  without  the  war.  The 
niggers  were  not  worth  it." 

"  The  principles  were,"  Fairfax  answered. 

"And  see  what  you  lost,  and  now,  after  all  these 
years  you  are  still  losing;"  from  Cogswell. 

"  This  English  fortune  I  never  possessed,  so  I  can't 
lose  it.  It  simply  goes  by  me  like  a  dissolving  view. 
It's  one  of  the  might-have-beens.  I'm  not  regretting 
it  in  the  least.  It's  not  as  much  as  one  pickaninny 
taken  from  me  unjustly." 

"  They  gave  us  good  sound  arguments  against  our 
possession  of  the  pickaninnies,  and  the  worst  of  it  for 
us  is  they  made  their  arguments  stand." 

"  Yes,  that's  the  sting  of  it.  I  suppose  when  this 
other  class  of  fanatics  who  disbelieve  in  the  owner- 
ship of  land  come  and  shovel  our  farms  from  under 
our  feet,  then  again,  might  will  be  right.  When  still 
another  army  of  long-haired,  evil-odored  preachers 
of  non-resistance  descend  upon  us,  we'll  be  converted, 
stand  still,  and — let  them  thrash  us  black  and  blue. 
No,  I  thank  you.  I  may  be  an  old  fogy,  but  I  don't 
subscribe  to  these  mischief-making  fads.  I  stand  by 
my  rights  and  the  rights  of  my  state.  I'm  as  good 


2O2  Jasper  Fairfax. 

a  patriot  as  ever  Hale  was.  I  wish  I  had  been  a 
thousand  rebels  instead  of  only  one." 

Amongst  the  very  few  persons  in  Bellaire  who 
knew  there  was  another  Jasper  Fairfax,  there  was 
much  speculation  in  regard  to  his  chances  of  coming 
into  this  estate  forfeited  by  his  father;  but  these 
speculations  were  in  whispers,  as  if  even  the  name  of 
Adelaide  Francis  held  reproach  in  it.  After  deserting 
her  husband  and  the  South  as  she  had  done,  the  most 
becoming  thing  for  her  was  just  what  she  was  doing: 
Keeping  herself  and  her  son  out  of  the  sight  of  old 
friends. 

Nothing  in  the  world  over-rides  the  supremacy  of 
trifles — small  matters  of  social  life.  Now,  for  Zoe 
Fairfax  the  four  deaths  in  the  family  of  her  English 
relations,  and  the  more  than  four  years  that  her  father 
had  passed  in  arms  against  the  Federal  Government 
were  nothing  as  compared  with  the  importance  of 
receiving  formal  party  calls  from  girls  and  their 
mothers  whom  she  had  always  known,  and  had  here- 
tofore visited  without  ceremony.  Now  she  must  have 
a  specified  day  at  home,  and  handsome  reception 
dresses. 

She  and  her  mother  went  in  state  to  call  upon  the 
Countess  Castlemere.  In  all  her  life  she  had  never 
seen  a  woman  one  half  so  magnificent.  The  Count- 
ess was  actually  imposing  in  size,  though  she  showed 
no  superfluous  flesh.  Her  complexion  was  like  ivory, 
her  eyes  dark  and  lustrous,  her  hair  snow-white. 

When  Mrs.  Burgoyne  presented  Mrs.  Fairfax  and 
her  daughter,  the  Countess  extended  her  beautiful 
hand  with  its  flashing  rings,  and  greeted  the  mother 
as  any  well-bred  woman  acknowledges  an  introduc- 


Jasper  Fairfax.  203 

tion.  Her  voice  was  soft  and  full,  and  she  spoke 
with  a  very  pronounced  foreign  accent.  She  drew 
Zoe  to  a  low  chair  beside  her  own,  and  still  holding 
her  hand,  said;  "Ah  my  Guido  was  right:  the  prettiest 
girl  in  the  world !  " 

Zoe  colored  under  the  steadfast  gaze  of  the  dark 
eyes,  but,  she  felt  that  the  praise  of  so  gracious  a 
lady  was  infallible  sanction  of  all  the  flatteries  she 
had  ever  received.  She  talked  but  little  during  the 
call.  Sally's  flashes  of  wit  were  lost  upon  her  friend 
for  once.  She  sat  beside  the  Countess,  listening  to 
her  charming  voice,  basking  in  the  splendor  of  her 
great  brown  eyes,  and  wondering  at  the  magnificence 
of  her  dress. 

The  glamour  of  this  influence  remained  with  her 
all  the  evening.  Usually  so  outspoken  in  her  pre- 
ferences, voluble  in  praises  of  persons  or  things  that 
pleased  her,  at  dinner  and  afterwards  she  was  ex- 
ceedingly quiet.  To  the  questioning  of  her  father 
and  the  rallying  of  her  uncle  concerning  the  Count- 
ess, she  answered  very  earnestly,  but  in  a  subdued 
tone: 

"Oh  she's  magnificent!  I  cannot  describe  her. 
She's  a  verified  dream  of  all  the  beauty,  all  the  grand- 
eur of  all  women.  She's  Semiramis,  Zenobia,  Cleo- 
patra. All  descriptive  words  are  weak  when  applied 
to  the  Countess  Castlemere." 

"Ah  listen !  listen ! "  from  her  father  as  he  and 
Westlake  exchanged  broad  smiles.  "  How  is  it  ma- 
ma, is  this  cousin  of  John  Burgoyne,  this  mother  of 
that  young  jumping- Jack,  such  a  paragon?" 

Mrs.  Fairfax  laughed  softly:  "The  countess  is 
certainly  a  very  handsome  woman.  Colonel  Bur- 


2O4  Jasper  Fairfax. 

goyne  is  handsome  too,  and  Count  Guido  is  a  model 
for  a  sculptor  as  far  as  symmetry  and  expression  go." 

"  Leaving  out  the  question  of  color?  "  Fairfax 
interpolated. 

"Yes,  leaving  out  the  question  of  color, — as  you 
see  it.  The  countess  is  tall  and  large,  like  Colonel 
Burgoyne.  Her  white  hair  gives  her  a  strikingly 
distinguished  appearance; — " 

"  I  wonder  who  bleached  it  for  her,"  Westlake  in- 
terrupted. "  Zoe,  woudn't  you  like  to  see  her  pict- 
ures as  a  'Before'  and  'After'  ?  I  fancy  daddy  here 
could  make  them.  The  first  would  be  black  and  as 
kinky  as  Ceely's." 

"  Uncle  Westlake,  I'll  never  believe  anything  so 
absurd  of  Countess  Castlemere.  She's  as  white  as 
I  am." 

Fairfax  laughed  as  he  felt  the  toe  of  Westlake's 
boot  touch  his  own,  then  he  said :  "  We  interrupted 
mama.  After  the  white  hair, — if  it's  a  triumph  of 
the  bleacher  or  the  wig-maker,  let  it  pass.  What 
next?  " 

"  The  Countess  certainly  clothes  herself  in  great 
splendor."  Mrs.  Fairfax  smiled  and  looked  at  Zoe 
as  if  asking  her  pardon;  then  continuing:  "In  fact  her 
profusion  of  jewels  and  the  richness  and  showiness  of 
her  dress  seemed  to  me,  bordering  a  little  on  bar- 
barism." 

"Just  so!"  Westlake  said  emphatically:  "Semi- 
remis,  Zenobia,  Cleopatra,  and,  the  Queen  of  the 
Cannibal  Islands!" 

Zoe's  admiration  of  the  Countess  was  not  weak- 
ened by  anything  that  was  said.  The  family,  after 
some  pleasant  raillery,  dropped  the  subject,  knowing 


Jasper  Fairfax.  205 

how  an  unsophisticated  girl  may  be  dazzled  even  by 
inappropriate  magnificence  in  an  older  woman. 

However,  a  week  or  two  after  this  call,  Fairfax  and 
Westlake,  coming  home  one  evening  a  short  half 
hour  earlier  than  usual,  encountered  in  the  parlor, 
only  lit  by  the  blazing  logs  in  the  fire-place,  Mrs. 
Burgoyne,  Sally,  the  countess  and  her  son. 

They  were  rising  to  go.  Mrs.  Fairfax  presented 
her  husband  and  her  brother.  Each  clasped  for  an 
instant  the  gloved  hand,  each  exchanged  a  few  pleas- 
ant, formal,  common-place  remarks.  Neither 
wondered  at  Zoe's  infatuation. 

Westlake  afterwards  declared  to  his  sister  and  her 
husband :  "  Why  she's  a  regular  battery.  A  few 
claspings  of  that  strong  hand  of  her's,  a'  few  glances 
from  those  ox-eyes,  a  few  words  in  the  voice  that 
seems  to  rise  from  the  polished  heels  of  her  hand- 
some boots,  and,  at  the  lifting  of  her  finger  she'd  lead 
a  fellow  to  heaven  or  hell,  whichever  way  she  hap- 
pened to  be  going  at  the  moment." 

Mrs.  Fairfax  laughingly  declared  it  "all  nonsense." 
She  was  quite  impervious  to  such  an  influence.  Her 
brother  said,  "  Because  there's  nothing  wicked 
enough  about  you  to  meet  it."  She  could  not  even 
understand  why  Zoe  should  admire  the  countess  so 
extravagantly. 

Fairfax  said:  "She's  certainly  a  magnificent 
woman  as  to  size,  symmetry,  even  coloring  and  cost- 
uming, but,  she's  masquerading.  There's  something 
unreal  about  her.  In  some  way,  in  some  degree, 
she's  a  fraud.  Being  Burgoyne's  cousin  brands  her 
a  fraud  in  the  matter  of  breeding.  She's  mixed  and 
she  knows  it.  She  never  forgets  it.  She  probably 


2o6  Jasper  Fairfax. 

deceived  the  man  she  married  in  regard  to  her  origin. 
Or,  it  may  be,  that,  dazzled  by  her  beauty  and  her 
wealth,  I  believe  they  say  she  was  rich  in  her  own 
right,  nobleman  though  he  was,  he  winked  at  so 
small  a  matter  as  a  drop  more  or  less  of  Afro-Ame- 
rican blood.  Europeans  generally,  and  impoverished 
heirs  of  titles  particularly,  think  less  of  these  things 
than  we  do.  Whatever  or  whoever  she  is,  I  wish  she 
had  stayed  in  Madrid  with  that  impish  son.  I  don't 
like  to  see  Zoe  so  charmed  with  them.  They  in- 
fluence her  more  than  any  people  we  have  ever  met!" 

"  Well,  my  dear,"  and  Mrs.  Fairfax  fluttered  her 
fan  nervously,  "if  it  were  not  for  your  settled  con- 
viction that  these  people  are — not — white,  I'm  sure 
I  should  not  mind," — she  hesitated,  looked  appeal- 
ingly  from  her  husband  to  her  brother  and  back 
again. 

"Oh  Marcia!  What  do  we  know  of  them,  only 
that  we — don't  care  to  know  them?  " 

"  But  they  are  relations  of  ex-consul  Burgoyne.  Is 
high  place  in  Governmental  circles  to  count  for 
nothing?  " 

"  For  nothing  and  worse  in  this  case.  Let  us  say 
nothing  more  about  it,  only  this:  I  want  it  distinctly 
understood  that  I  am  uncompromisingly  opposed  to 
any  degree  of  intimacy  between  Zoe  and  these  for- 
eigners. Of  course,  they  being  at  Burgoyne's  and 
their  family  and  ours  being  on  the  friendly  terms  that 
they  are,  we  cannot  cut  off  from  them ;  but,  Zoe  must 
never,  on  any  account  go  out  with  this  fellow  with- 
out a  chaperon.  Never  send  her  to  Burgoyne's 
alone,  or  even  with  one  of  the  servants  that  he  may 
have  an  excuse  to  ride  or  drive  home  with  her. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  207 

Never  on  any  pretext  leave  them  alone  together. 
She's  bewitched.  I  disliked  the  fellow  the  first 
glimpse  I  had  of  him.  I  dislike  him  more  since  see- 
ing his  mother,  hearing  her  flatteries  of  Zoe,  and 
watching  her  manner.  Why  she's  exerting  her  in- 
fluence, I  read  like  a  page  of  long  primer.  They 
may  be  poor  in  spite  of  her  magnificence,  in  spite  of 
the  reports  of  John  Burgoyne.  Poverty,  I  wouldn't 
mind.  I  wouldn't  object  to  making  some  worthy 
young  American  rich  by  giving  him  my  daughter 
and  Fairfax  Farms.  What  I  do  object  to  is — these 
— black-amoors,  of  whom  all  we  know  is  objection- 
able." 


208  Jasper  Fairfax. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

The  birthday  dance  at  Fairfax  Farms  was  the  open- 
ing of  a  very  gay  season  for  Bellaire  and  vicinity. 
The  presence  of  Countess  Castlemere  and  her  son 
had  much  to  do  with  it.  Though  Burgoyne's  neigh- 
bors, without  an  exception  fully  believed  him  to  be 
an  ex-slave,  still,  he  was  in  a  position  to  make  him- 
self necessary.  He  was  accepted  as  a  part  of  the  re- 
construction of  the  Union.  Much  blacker  men  were 
the  equals,  before  the  law,  of  the  bluest  blood  in  the 
States.  So  now,  the  Burgoyne  place  was  very  gay. 
The  whole  house-full  went  everywhere.  Sometimes 
Colonel  Fairfax  wondered  that  he  saw  so  little  of  the 
Countess  Castlemere.  Westlake  danced  with  her, 
was  paired  with  her  at  dinners,  sat  in  corners  and 
talked  with  her  until  gossips  began  to  say,  "  The  old 
bachelor  is  caught  at  last;"  but  his  brother-in-law 
rarely  more  than  greeted  her  formally.  Not  that  he 
was  conscious  of  trying  to  avoid  her,  but  it  always 
seemed  to  happen  that  if  they  met,  something  or 
somebody  interrupted  any  attempt  at  conversation. 
Fairfax  never  supposed  that  the  countess  maneuver- 
ed to  avoid  him  until  the  evening  of  a  formal  dinner 
Mrs.  Fairfax  gave  in  her  honor.  Sitting  at  his  right, 
after  a  few  attempts  to  interest  her,  he  found  that  she 
would  not  talk  to  him  but  gave  her  whole  attention 
to  Mr.  Cogswell.  After  that  he  accepted  the  fact  that 
the  countess  avoided  him,  without  caring  why  she 
did  so.  If  he  had  been  compelled  to  give  a  reason  he 


Jasper  Fairfax.  209 

would  have  said,  "probably  it  is  because  I  don't  be- 
lieve in  her,  and  instinctively  she  knows  it." 

There  was  a  continual  round  of  dinners,  teas, 
dances,  charade  parties,  and  mask  balls.  These  last 
came  after  the  Holidays  were  over  when  everybody 
was  a  trifle  weary  and  thought  of  Ash  Wednesday 
with  feelings  of  relief.  In  the  masquerades  there  was 
one  draw-back  for  Zoe.  Her  father  would  not  allow 
her,  upon  any  pretext,  to  keep  him  in  ignorance  of 
the  character  she  assumed.  In  vain  she  plead  with 
him  to  try  for  once  if  he  could  detect  her  amongst 
fifty  other  flower  girls,  sheperdesses,  Sisters  of  Chari- 
ty, queens,  gypsies,  ghosts  and  peasants.  He  vowed 
he  could  not  consent  to  have  his  enjoyment  of  the 
evening  marred  by  the  least  doubt  of  her  identity. 
If  he  saw  a  girl  stealing  away  to  a  shadowy  nook 
with  an  unknown  cavalier  to  listen  to  he  knew  not 
what  nonsense,  or  sitting  and  talking  out  too  many 
dances,  or  flirting  on  the  stairs,  or  in  the  conserva- 
tory, he  did  not  want  to  be  tortured  by  the  inquiry: 
'  Is  that  Zoe?  ' 

No,  she  must  show  herself  to  him  before  going. 
He  would  leave  her  at  the  dressing-room  door  with 
her  mother  and  the  maids.  He  would  receive  her 
there  within  so  short  a  time  as  to  make  change  im- 
possible. Though  he  talked  lightly  of  these  matters. 
Mrs.  Fairfax  knew  he  was  very  much  in  earnest. 
Though  he  said  nothing  more  of  his  dislike  and  dis- 
trust of  Countess  Castlemere  and  her  son  since  the 
first,  yet  the  family  knew  that  the  dislike  and  the  dis- 
trust were  still  in  existence,  augmented  by  time,  con- 
tinual contact  and  the  undisguised  flatteries  of  the 
countess. 


2iO  jasper  Fairfax. 

Young  Castlemere  was  very  popular  as  was  but 
natural.  He  was  thoroughly  cosmopolitan.  Besides 
his  readiness  in  all  fashionable  indoor  pastimes,  he 
was  a  most  daring  athlete,  a  bold  rider,  an  expert  in 
all  sports  of  wood  and  field.  He  had  known  recrea- 
tions of  which  the  natives  of  this  mild  climate  had 
only  read  and  wondered.  He  had  skated  over  the 
shining  surface  of  ponds  and  canals  with  rosy-cheek- 
ed Holland  girls.  He  had  climbed  along  the  edges 
of  precipices  with  picturesque  Swiss  maidens.  He 
had  fished  in  the  swirling  streams  with  short-petti- 
coated  Norwegians.  He  was  so  boyish,  so  thorough- 
ly good  natured,  so  full  of  life.  Only  on  one  subject 
was  he  serious.  One  fair-haired  American  girl  had 
taken  the  place  of  all  that  had  gone  before.  To  Sally 
Burgoyne  he  declared  that  Zoe  Fairfax  was  all  he 
had  ever  dreamed  of  girlish  loveliness.  He  was  not 
obtuse,  nor  myopic.  He  could  see  that  Colonel  Fair- 
fax did  not  approve  of  him.  At  first  he  was  inclined 
to  think  it  was  only  the  jealousy  natural  to  a  high- 
class,  wealthy  father  of  an  only  daughter,  but,  he 
noted  the  manner  of  the  colonel  towards  other  young 
men. 

He  was  wise,  this  Spanish  Adonis  and  he  wisely 
counselled  with  his  mother.  He  was  all  deference 
to  the  father,  all  tender  attention  to  the  daughter. 
He  never  sought  to  inveigle  her  into  a  tete-a-tete. 
His  words  were  the  merest  common-places,  but  there 
was  a  world  of  meaning  in  the  finely  modulated  tones. 
If  he  touched  her  hand  he  did  it  as  if  receiving  a  favor 
from  a  queen.  The  dark  eyes  continually  sought 
hers,  continually  expressed  to  her  what  he  did  not 
dare  to  put  into  words. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  211 

He  was  sure  he  was  understood; — understood  by 
the  daughter,  but,  the  father — ? 

When  Castlemere  was  alone,  or  with  his  mother 
he  laughed,  throwing  back  his  handsome  head  and 
showing  his  fine  teeth.  He  was  sure,  so  was  his 
mother,  that  the  father  was  being  hoodwinked. 

Colonel  Fairfax,  watching  this  social  panorama 
distinctly  saw  the  trend  of  affairs;  but  there  was 
nothing  to  which  he  could  openly  object.  He  saw 
Castlemere's  eloquent  glances,  and  he  read  the  an- 
swer on  the  flushing  cheeks,  in  the  veiled  flashes  from 
the  forget-me-not  eyes  of  his  daughter.  He  would 
say  to  himself  as  he  paced  the  long  parlors:  "  I'm  an 
old  stager.  It  might  be  something  to  my  comfort 
if  I  had  not  so  often  watched  the  shadowings  of  love's 
coming.  It  may  be  only  fancy  on  Zoe's  part.  Half 
the  girls  in  the  county  are  ready  to  fall  at  the  feet  of 
this  fascinating  fraud,  for  fraud  of  some  degree  he 
undoubtedly  is.  I'll  take  Zoe  and  her  mother  to  Eng- 
land in  the  Spring,  as  soon  as  it's  pleasant  to  cross  the 
water.  Marcia  is  not  well.  She's  over-doing.  In 
the  meantime  I  must  see  that  no  irreparable  mischief 
is  done.  Zoe  may  think  herself  in  love  with  this — 
thing;  but,  change  will  be  all  that's  necessary  to 
change  her  mind." 

So,  one  thing  that  Colonel  Fairfax  opposed  when- 
ever it  was  mentioned  was  that  Zoe  should  disguise 
herself  from  him  at  a  masked  dance.  Neither  would 
he  consent  to  a  plan  that  she  and  Fanny  Jerome  con- 
cocted on  one  occasion  of  dressing  precisely  alike. 
This  was  for  the  mystification  of  Castlemere  and  Clay 
Jerome. 

It  was  on  an  informal  evening  in  the  Fairfax  par- 


212  Jasper  Fairfax. 

lor,  that  the  two  young  men  who  had  grown  to  be 
very  warm  friends  agreed  to  dress  as  Faust  and  Me- 
phistopheles  at  a  mask  ball  to  be  given  at  Burgoyne's, 
very  soon.  To  the  question  of  the  girls  as  to  which 
character  each  would  assume,  on  the  impulse  of  the 
moment  they  refused  to  tell.  The  matter  may  not 
have  been  decided,  but,  when  Clay's  fingers  lightly 
touched  Guide's  arm,  as  Fanny  asked  who  was  to 
wear  the  scarlet,  the  hint  was  given.  At  once  it  was 
declared  that  that  should  be  the  secret.  They  ought 
not  to  have  mentioned  it  at  all,  but  now  the  girls 
might  know  that  much,  and  everybody  might  know 
it.  It  would  be  something  new  for  their  friends  to 
know,  and  yet  not  know.  The  two  were  the  same 
height,  the  same  figure.  Ah!  it  would  be  the  prize 
puzzle. 

The  most  adroit  questions  of  the  girls  were  par- 
ried. The  young  men  laughed  but  remained  firm. 
The  subject  was  dropped,  then  returned  to  abruptly, 
all  with  no  avail. 

The  next  day  Fanny  called  upon  Zoe  all  excited 
with  her  little  plan  to  outwit  her  brother  and  Castle- 
mere.      It  was  to  dress  themselves  precisely  alike; 
i  to  be  two  Marguerites. 

Zoe  clapped  her  hands  and  springing  from  her 
chair  she  pirouetted  about  the  room,  employing  some 
of  the  many  new  and  graceful  poses  she  had  learned 
from  Guido  and  Sally.  This,  then  would  be  their 
secret.  The  young  men  had  jokingly  wondered  if 
they  would  find  Marguerite.  What  would  be  their 
surprise  when  they  should  discover  two,  exactly 
alike.  The  trifling  difference  in  height  and  figure  of 


Jasper  Fairfax.  213 

the  two  girls  could  be  cancelled  by  the  dress  and 
boot-makers. 

That  evening  at  dinner  Zoe  told  the  family  of  the 
costume  she  had  decided  upon  for  the  Burgoyne 
fancy  dress  ball.  Her  surprise  and  grief  were  over- 
whelming when,  after  her  mother  had  applauded  the 
idea,  after  her  uncle  had  declared  it  was  a  check-mate 
for  the  boys,  her  father  resolutely  declared: 

"No  daughter;  that  won't  do, — not  for  a  minute. 
I  wouldn't  object  to  you  going  as  the  fair  German 
maid,  but,  not  as  a  duplicate.  Why,  only  think  of  it ! 
I  might  be  caught  whispering  to  Fanny  some  of  the 
nonsense  I  talk  to  you.  I  might  pinch  her  ringers 
or  kiss  her  chin  below  her  mask.  So  many  imprudent 
things  you  and  I  indulge  in!  Think  of  the  con- 
sequences ! 

Zoe  laughed  but  there  were  tears  in  her  eyes:  "Oh 
papa,  Fanny  wouldn't  mind,  she'd  know  it  was  you." 

"  But  dear  me!  Ask  mama  if  she  wouldn't  mind, 
and,  are  you  so  sure  I  want  to  make  love  to  Fanny 
even  by  mistake?  " 

"  But  papa,  I'd  give  you  a  sign  whenever  I  came 
near  you." 

"  Then  the  boys  would  see  you,  and  all  would  be 
lost." 

"Oh  I  had  so  set  my  heart  on  it,"  Zoe  sighed. 

"  How  would  it  do,"  Mrs.  Fairfax  asked,  "to  let 
the  girls  go  on  with  their  joke  and  dress  alike  except- 
ing the  flowers  they  wear? 

"  Why  mama,  I'm  sure  Clay  and  Guido  would  see 
the  difference  at  once." 

"  We  wouldn't  mind  that  so  much.  I  was  making 
the  suggestion  for  papa's  comfort." 


214  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"  But  you  see  we  want  to  mystify  them  completely, 
so  that  even  if  they  guess  who  we  are,  as  they  prob- 
ably would,  they  wouldn't  know  which  one  of  the 
Marguerites  they  were  dancing  with." 

"  Let  your  uncle  settle  it ;"  said  Westlake.  "Wear 
the  same  kind  and  color  of  flowers;  but  not  one  per- 
son in  a  hundred  would  think  to  notice  how  many 
flowers  you  wear.  Suppose  Zoe  puts  a  red  red  rose 
in  each  side  of  her  hair,  and  two  on  her  corsage.  Let 
Fanny  wear  one  rose  on  one  side  of  her  head,  two  on 
the  other  and  three  on  her  corsage." 

"  That  wouldn't  be  half  bad,"  Fairfax  assented,  but 
what  a  problem  for  an  anxiuus  father  to  keep  in  his 
head !  My  girl  wears  four  red  roses,  and  as  every  one 
supposes, — now  see!  Why  such  things  have  sent 
men  raving.  Then  only  imagine  if  I  get  it  all  mixed 
and  say  six  instead  of  four." 

"Oh  but  papa,  you  won't;  you  have  a  good  memory 
we  may  go  on  with  it?  " 

"Of  course  you  will;"  said  Westake.  "  Dad  and  I 
will  occasionally  remind  each  other  that  you  are  the 
Big  Four,  and  Fanny's  the  Invincible  Six." 

As  the  time  for  the  ball  drew  near  Clay  Jerome 
vainly  questioned  his  sister  as  to  the  character  she 
meant  to  assume.  Her  answer  was :  "  Tell  me ;  are 
you  to  be  Faust  or  Mephistopheles?  " 

Then  he  besieged  his  mother  and  his  grandmother 
Cogswell.  No  satisfactory  answer  was  given. 

He  called  upon  Zoe,  and,  as  the  ball  was  the  one 
subject  of  interest,  he  said  carelessly: 

"  Fanny's  costume  is  going  to  be  very  pretty." 

Usually  Zoe  was  the  most  impulsive  creature  alive, 


Jasper  Fairfax.  215 

but  upon  this  one  subject  she  was  prudent.  She 
answered : 

"  Yes?  What  is  it?  "  and  drew  a  step  nearer  as  if 
she  fully  expected  a  confidence. 

Clay  smiled  in  a  way  he  meant  to  be  sly,  saying: 
"  Pshaw  Zoe,  you  know  all  about  it.  There  need  be 
no  reserve  between  you  and  me." 

"  No,"  she  answered,  lounging  on  the  arm  of  a 
chair,  "and  since  we  both  know  all  about  it,  there's 
nothing  to  tell;  no  need  of  talking  it  over.  You 
know  some  folks  talk  best  on  subjects  of  which  they 
know  nothing.  They  can  indulge  their  imagination. 
Have  you  any  talent  in  that  line?  " 

Clay  laughed  and  said  good  bye.  He  knew  he  was 
understood. 

This  ball  was  declared  the  most  successful  of  the 
season.  Everybody  was  masked.  The  rooms  were 
crowded,  the  halls  overflowing;  the  stairs  were  a 
thoroughfare  for  ascending  and  descending  parties, 
or  for  loiterers  to  gaze  upon  the  scene  below. 

The  two  Marguerites  were  greeted  with  exclama- 
tions as  they  entered  together,  convoyed  by  a  tall 
black  domino.  Instantly  they  were  besought  by 
Faust  and  Mephistopheles  and  they  were  placed  vis-a 
-vis  in  the  same  quadrille.  It  was  more  of  a  play  for 
the  graceful  Dr.  Faust  and  his  ally  in  scarlet  than 
a  dance.  They  were  almost  constantly  together 
and  when  separated,  communicated  by  a  series  of 
signals.  That  they  suspected  at  once  the  identity  of 
the  two  Marguerites  was  conveyed  to  each  other  in 
pantomime. 

But  which  was  Fanny,  and  which  was  Zoe?  They 
stood  gazing  at  the  girls  and  waiting  for  the  dance 


216  Jasper  Fairfax. 

to  begin.  Suddenly  the  man  in  scarlet  raised  his 
hand  with  the  four  fingers  outspread.  The  girls, 
with  downcast  eyes ,  were  demurely  fingering  their 
rosaries.  This  was  a  part  of  their  plan  of  action. 
When  not  dancing,  they  would  follow  each  other's 
every  motion. 

Doctor  Faust  answered  the  gesture  of  his  ally, 
and  Mephisto  with  a  glance  and  a  quick  movement 
of  his  fingers  directed  attention  to  the  flowers  worn 
by  the  Marguerite  beside  him.  Then  he  raised  two 
others  fingers,  and  pointed  to  the  duplicate  who  stood 
beside  himself.  The  difference  was  discovered.  The 
tall  black  domino  who  had  come  in  with  the  girls 
stood  not  far  away,  and  he  gave  no  sign  that  the  pan- 
tomime had  been  seen  and  understood.  The  figure 
moved  quietly  away,  and  where  there  were  so  many 
back  dominos,  one  more  or  less  was  not  noticeable. 

Very  soon  after  that  Doctor  Faust  said  to  Mephis- 
to, "Who  is  that  noble  Roman?  " 

"  Have  no  idea.  He's  just  come  in.  One  of  these 
big  dominos  is  Colonel  Fairfax.  What  I  want  to 
know  is,  which  Marguerite  is  his  daughter,  and  which 
your  sister." 

"  Keep  your  eye  on  the  domino  that  came  in  with 
them,  He'll  keep  close  and  dance  with  each  one 
soon.  Can't  you  make  the  girls  talk?  " 

"  Not  a  word.  If  the  Colonel  would  move  away, 
I'd  try  something  daring." 

"  Don't  be  rash,"  with  a  laugh. 

If  the  two  German  maids  had  been  real  mutes  they 
could  not  have  been  more  silent.  They,  however, 
were  at  once  satisfied  as  to  the  identity  of  the  young 
men.  The  tall  black  dominos,  there  were  at  least  a 


Jasper  Fairfax.  217 

half  dozen,  and  one  and  all  seemed  for  awhile  to  have 
forgotten  the  girls.  Then  two  of  them  marched  to- 
gether and  invited  the  Marguerites  to  dance.  Not 
one  word  was  spoken. 

Faust  and  Mephisto  watched  closely,  but  they 
could  not  say  which  was  Colonel  Fairfax.  The  girls 
were  again  vis-a-vis,  and  in  one  of  the  changes  of 
the  dance  Zoe  whispered  to  Fanny,  "Neither  one  of 
these  is  papa." 

"  How  do  you  know?  " 

"Oh  I'm  sure !     It  isn't  his  touch  nor  his  motion." 

Bye  and  bye  came  the  stately  Roman  and  took  the 
maid  of  four  roses  from  the  arm  of  Mephistopheles  as 
they  were  passing  into  the  hall.  He  looked  at  her 
tablet.  The  next  dance  was  a  minuet.  He  wrote 
his  name,  Virginius,  and  led  her  to  her  place.  The 
dance  begun,  and  every  movement,  every  touch  of 
her  partner's  hand  spoke  to  Zoe.  She  smiled  behind 
her  mask,  and  as  Virginius  lightly  touched  her  fin- 
gers in  the  graceful  measure  she  whispered  "  Papa." 
Below  the  music  and  the  rhythmic  tap-tap  of  feet 
came  the  answer:  "Hush  darling:  Nobody  knows, 
not  even  mama." 

Next  the  Roman  danced  with  the  other  Margue- 
rite, then  with  a  Night  maiden,  then  with  a  Nun.  He 
danced  continually  but  managed  to  stay  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  Marguerites. 

Presently  the  two  girls  stood  idly  together,  and 
not  far  away  were  Faust  and  Mephistopheles.  The 
Roman,  a  few  steps  away  made  the  third  point  of  a 
triangle 

There  was  a  lull  in  the  music,  and  a  great  hum  of 
conversation  began.  There  was  a  swift  pantomime 


2i8  Jasper  Fairfax. 

between  Faust  and  Mephisto,  and  the  Roman  fol- 
lowed the  eyes  of  the  two.  He  discerned  at  once 
what  was  meant.  The  girl  who  had  worn  three 
roses  on  her  corsage  had  but  two.  He  changed  his 
position.  Each  girl  had  a  single  rose  on  each  side  of 
her  head.  He  first  thought  that  this  was  an  accident. 
The  stems  had  broken, — but  Mephistopheles  in  an- 
swer to  a  question  from  his  ally  took  from  his  vest  a 
quantity  of  loose  leaves  and  scattered  them  on  the 
floor.  At  the  same  time,  he  attracted  the  attention 
of  the  girls  and  showed  them  that  their  little  differ- 
ence of  costume  was  obliterated. 

The  Marguerite  whose  roses  had  been  purloined 
put  her  hands  quickly  to  her  bosom,  then  to  her  hair, 
but,  the  other  seiiously  followed  her  motions  and  the 
Roman  laughed  to  see  the  nonplussed  air  of  Faust 
and  his  scarlet  ally.  The  difference  had  been  dis- 
covered and  spoiled,  but  was  it  of  any  use? 

The  girls  could  not  tell,  but  the  Roman  caught  an 
inadvertent  glance,  an  involuntary  movement  of  Me- 
phistopheles toward  himself.  Then,  he  not  only  fully 
understood  that  Zoe  had  been  identified  by  Guide, 
but  that  his  own  disguise  had  been  penetrated.  The 
roses  had  been  removed  to  cheat  him.  But,  could 
this  deft-handed,  quick  witted  Afro-Spaniard  (so  he 
called  him  in  his  thought),  take  from  him  the  apple 
of  his  eye  and  he  be  unconscious  of  it? 

He  looked  at  the  two  girls  standing  side  by  side. 
He  wondered  that  anyone  could  mistake  one  for  the 
other.  He  stepped  quickly  behind  them,  put  a  hand 
on  a  shoulder  of  each,  said  close  to  the  cheek  of  one; 
"  Daughter  take  off  your  mask  now ;  you've  fooled 
Mephisto  and  the  doctor  long  enough." 


Jasper  Fairfax.  219 

At  the  same  moment  he  uncovered  his  own  face, 
and  the  man  in  scarlet,  as  if  under  an  influence  he 
could  not  resist  slowly  drew  off  his  mask. 

There  was  a  quick  exchange  of  glances  between 
him  and  Zoe.  A  wave  of  color  swept  over  her  face. 
Then  the  eyes  of  Fairfax  and  Castlemere  met.  It 
was  a  steady  gaze  while  one  might  have  counted  five 
ticks  of  a  clock,  but  each  read  the  other.  Fairfax 
knew  that  in  the  dark  eyes  that  met  his  own  above 
his  daughter's  head,  there  was  a  glint  of  defiance, 
lie  knew  too  that  he  was  in  the  minority;  that  in  her 
heart  Zoe  was  plighted  to  this  handsome,  dashing 
stranger. 

Castlemere,  on  his  part  saw  more  plainly  than  ever 
before,  antagonism  to  himself  as  a  suitor  for  Zoe. 
Heretofore  he  had  been  governed  by  his  mother's 
counsel.  He  had  masked  his  intentions  under  the 
most  delicate  diplomacy.  Now,  this  night,  when  all 
were  masked,  the  secret  stalked  abroad  bare-faced. 
Colonel  Fairfax  in  his  carefully  arranged  disguise 
had  run  to  earth  the  two  young  maskers,  but,  he 
too  had  been  discovered.  Hereafter,  instead  of  the 
polite  neighborliness,  the  masterly  finesse  on  his 
part,  and  the  deferential  acquiescence,  the  graceful 
yielding  of  the  young  count,  it  would  be  open  war- 
fare. 

Each  felt  a  sort  of  relief.  The  thought  of  the 
father  was:  "I'll  plan  a  trip  somewhere  immediately. 
I'll  get  the  child  away  as  soon  as  possible.  We  ought 
to  leave  all  this  bustling  and  fussing  for  Marcia's 
sake.  How  pallid  and  weary  she  looks!" 

A  half  hour  after,  all  masks  were  removed,  and  the 
lover  said  to  a  magnificent  Cornelia:  "I  think  Senor 


220  Jasper  Fairfax. 

Fairfax  took  great  labor  upon  himself  to  watch  the 
pretty  daughter.  He  has  been  assured  of  something 
without  spoken  words,  and  it  doesn't  please  him." 

Cornelia  laughed  softly,  gazing  into  her  son's  eyes: 
"Ah  my  Guido,  shall  you  not  have  whatever  you 
desire,  even  if  be  Fairfax  Farms?  " 


Jasper  Fairfax.  221 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

"  I  want  a  vote  on  going  to  New  Orleans  in  time 
for  the  Mardi  gras.'''  Colonel  Fairfax  said  at  the  din- 
ner table  the  next  evening  after  the  masquerade. 

"Good  idea!"  Westlake  answered.  "I'm  ready.' 

Mrs.  Fairfax  looked  surprised  but  remained  silent 
and  Zoe  gasped:  "Oh  papa!" 

"  Why  such  consternation?  " 

"I  am  surprised;  and,  we  have  so  many  engage- 
ments." 

"Well;  Marcia,"  turning  directly  to  Mrs.  Fairfax, 
"nothing  to  say?  Are  these  engagements  so  ex- 
ceedingly important?  " 

"They  are  certainly  important  from  one  point  of 
view.  We  must  keep  them  excepting  something  of 
greater  importance  presents  itself.  Seeing  Mardi 
gras  in  New  Orleans  is  an  old  story.  If  it  were  going 
to  Rome  for  the  Carnival;"  and  she  paused  with  a 
rising  inflection. 

"  If  we  had  time,  we  might  go  to  Rome." 

"  I  shouldn't  like  to  cross  the  water  at  this  season." 

"No  that  wouldn't  be  advisable;  but,  really  dear, 
you  ought  to  rest." 

"  Lent  will  soon  be  here,  then  I'll  rest  without  go- 
ing away." 

"Why  do  you  wish  to  go  papa,  because  mama  isn't 
well?  " 

"We're   not  going  to   frighten  mama,   but   Dr. 


222  Jasper  Fairfax. 

Henry  doesn't  seem  to  strike  the  right  thing  for  her 
cough." 

"  Mama  says  it's  only  a  cold,  and  we're  all  having 
such  a  good  time." 

"  Yes,  but  this  good  time  is  a  much  older  story 
than  Mardi  gras  in  New  Orleans.  I'm  dead  tired. 
I'd  like  a  slow  trip  down  the  Mississippi,  finding  each 
day  the  air  growing  milder,  the  scenery  more 
tropical. 

"Oh  papa,  I'm  sorry, — you  wouldn't  like  to  go 
alone?" 

"  No  indeed ;  but  I'll  go  if  you'll  go  with  me.  Mardi 
gras  isn't  an  old  story  to  you.  We  can  invite  Fanny 
Jerome,  or  any  one  or  two  or  a  half  dozen  girls  to  go 
with  us." 

"  No  boys?  "  and  Zoe  shook  her  head  slowly,  smil- 
ing and  coloring. 

"  No  boys,  most  emphatically.  It's  the  flirting 
element  in  this  good  time  we're  having  that  wearies 
me." 

"  Papa,  to  go  away  now  would  be  to  miss  the  an- 
nual tea  at  Dr.  Ballantyne's  You  know  how  feeble 
he's  growing,  and  how  sensitive  he  is.  I  wouldn't 
like  to  seem  to  treat  him  unkindly." 

"  Very  well,  we'll  wait  until  after  the  tea,  and  talk 
about  it  again." 

Talking  about  it  again  only  brought  to  light  real 
reasons  for  going  and  not  going.  Mrs.  Fairfax  first 
made  a  plea  against  the  expense  of  a  traveling  outfit 
in  the  transition  season.  Then  the  risk  to  health  was 
enlarged  upon.  She  and  Zoe  were  both  weary  with 
their  social  duties;  in  no  state  to  be  starting  upon  a 
journey. 


Jasper   Fairfax. 

"  For  that  very  reason  I  wish  to  go."  her  husband 
answered.  "  For  your  sake  particularly  there  ought 
to  be  a  season  of  absolute  rest.  I'll  wager  you  are 
fifteen  pounds  lighter  than  you've  been  within  the 
last  twenty  years.  The  loss  of  that  much  flesh  from 
a  slender  body  like  yours,  means  danger." 

"  Don't  worry ;  my  dresses  are  made  from  the  same 
measure  I've  used  for — twenty  years,  probably." 

"  You  don't  fill  them  dear,  and  look  at  that."  He 
lifted  her  hand  by  the  finger  tips,  and  held  it  against 
the  light.  "  It  reminds  me  of  those  skeleton  leaves 
the  girls  were  messing  with  last  summer." 

His  arguments,  his  kindly  tenderness  were  of  no 
avail.  At  his  wits  end  he  thought  for  a  moment  of 
exerting  warrantable  authority,  and  saying,  "  We 
will  go  on  such  a  day.  Try  to  be  ready,"  but,  look- 
ing at  his  wife's  thin,  flushed  face,  noticing  how  care- 
fully she  used  her  voice  so  as  not  to  provoke  that 
rasping  cough,  he  said: 

"  Dear,  if  not  for  your  own  sake,  then  for  Zoe.  I 
have  no  more  desire  to  leave  home  than  you  have, 
and,  if  you  were  taking  proper  care  of  yourself,  I 
think  you'd  soon  be  better;  but  for  Zoe's  sake,  let  us 
go.  To  wean  her  from  this  daily  increasing  infatu- 
ation for  Castlemere;  to  give  her  new  subjects  of 
thought,  new  people,  new  scenery.  For  this  reason 
I  wish  to  go,  and  go  quickly." 

She  listened  in  silence  till  he  was  quite  done. 
Then,  "JasPer>  I  really  think  you  are  unreasonable. 
I  cannot  see  that  Guido  gives  Zoe  any  more  atten- 
tion than  is  fitting  under  the  circumstances." 

"  But,  my  dear,  you  know  how  much  I,  at  least 
deplore  the  circumstances.  If  it  were  not  for  the  way 


224  Jasper  Fairfax. 

in  which  we  have  lived  with  Burgoyne's  family  for 
the  last  ten  years,  that  frisking  Jackanapes  should 
never  set  foot  in  my  house." 

"  You  will  probably  think  it  very  foolish  of  me, 
to  say  that  you  are  very  much  prejudiced." 

"  No,  not  foolish  if  you  think  so;  but  I've  told  you 
from  the  first  why  I  object  to  Castlemere." 

"  There  is  where  your  prejudice  blinds  you.  You 
fancy  there's  a  taint  in  his  blood." 

"  Fancy !  I  wish  I  might  be  as  sure  of  an  immortal 
soul  as  I  am  that  somewhere  in  the  not  remote  history 
of  this  fellow  and  his  mother  there  was  a  darkey." 

Mrs.  Fairfax  frowned,  and  dropped  her  clasped 
hands  on  her  lap  with  a  gesture  of  impatience. 

"  I  dare  say,  if  any  young  man  we  know  should  ap- 
proach Zoe  as  a  lover  you'd  object  to  him,  for  some 
reason." 

"  No,  you're  mistaken.  I  know  a  full  half  dozen 
estimable  boys,  sons  of  old  friends,  boys  I've  known 
since  their  birth,  and  whose  fathers  and  mothers  I've 
known  all  my  life.  That  sort  of  lover,  or  husband 
for  Zoe  I  should  not  object  to." 

"Well  I  must  confess,  "Mrs.  Fairfax  said  airily, 
and  she  smiled  while  a  pink  line  grew  at  the  edges  of 
her  eyelids;  "I  must  confess  I  have  more  ambition 
for  our  daughter  than  that  she  shall  marry  a  village 
clown." 

"If  she's  to  marry  a  clown  at  all  I  prefer  one  of 
whose  antecedents  we  know.  In  the  same  measure 
that  these  boy  friends  are  clowns,  so  is  Zoe's  father, 
your  husband,  a  clown.  We've  had  the  same  sur- 
roundings, we've  been  educated  in  the  same  schools 


Jasper  Fairfax.  225 

and  colleges.  If  there  is  any  difference  it  is  in  favor 
of  the  later  generation." 

"  To  say  the  very  least,  then,  there's  no  young  man 
amongst  our  friends  whom  I  would  prefer  before  the 
young  Count  Castlemere." 

"  He  may  be  a  count,  and  he  may  not  be ;  but  for 
that  I  care  not  one  copper.  It's  the  man  I  object  to." 

"  I  cannot  see  how  you  can  object  to  him  in  the 
abstract,  leaving  out  your  notion  of  mixed  blood. 
He's  very  finely  educated,  his  manners  are  faultless. 
He  knows  books  and  he  knows  the  world.  He's 
travelled  everywhere." 

"  So  has  Prax,  my  valet,  travelled  everywhere  that 
I  have.  The  tent  pitchers  of  a  circus  are  great  travel- 
lers too.  I  know  of  all  the  advantages  this  Afro- 
Spaniard  has  had,  and,  in  spite  of  them  all,  I  set  my 
face  against  the  matter  of  him  presuming  to  address 
Zoe. 

Fairfax  had  been  walking  up  and  down  the  room. 
Now  he  stood  before  his  wife  and  looked  down  at 
her  as  he  continued :  "You  are  here  at  home  with  her. 
It  is  your  office  to  see  to  it  that  there  is  no  privacy  in 
his  calls." 

"  There  has  been  no  privacy.  Count  Castlemere, 
in  accordance  with  the  usage  of  his  country  will,  un- 
doubtedly speak  to  you  before  he  allows  Zoe  to  sus- 
pect that  he  loves  her.  He  would  perhaps  think  you 
presumptious  if  he  knew  how  you  regard  him.  What 
I  fear  is  that  will  not  condescend  to  Zoe." 

"  You — fear — he — will — not — condescend?  Good 
God!  You  have  reached  that  point?  " 

Mrs.  Fairfax  rose  from  her  chair. 

"Don't  stand  over  me  like  that!      I've  tried  to 


226  Jasper  Fairfax. 

reason  with  you,  but  you  are  too  stubborn,  too  much 
tied  down  by  your  own  opinions  and  your  own  pre- 
judices to  listen  to  reason.  Zoe  is  mine  as  well  as 
yours.  I  expect  to  have  a  word  to  say  in  regard  to 
her  settlement  in  life.  The  first  thing  to  be  consider- 
ed is  her  happiness.  If,  as  you  suspect,  her  affections 
are  engaged,  and  if  your  other  suspicion  is  based  on 
truth,  that  Count  Castlemere  cares  for  her,  they  have 
my  full  consent  to  be  happy  together." 

While  Fairfax  listened  to  his  wife,  every  vestige 
of  color  left  his  face.  He  scarcely  breathed,  so  great 
was  his  astonishment.  He  felt  as  he  might  if  the  floor 
had  suddenly  given  way  beneath  him.  He  was  re- 
called to  his  senses  by  Mrs.  Fairfax  sinking  into  a 
chair,  and  writhing  in  a  paroxysm  of  coughing.  He 
quickly  brought  her  remedies  from  her  sleeping 
room,  administered  them,  and  wiped  the  beads  of  per- 
spiration from  her  face.  Two  things  he  knew  now 
for  a  certainty:  Talking  was  useless,  worse,  it  was 
harmful.  He  rang  the  bell  for  Ceely,  then: 

"  I've  kept  you  up  too  long,  dear;  be  sure  to  have 
Ceely  do  everything  that  Henry  requires.  Good 
night." 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  the  Lenten  season  and  there 
were  no  balls  now,  nothing  but  teas,  and  lean  lunch 
parties.  But,  something  must  be  done  to  fill  the 
time.  Often  when  Colonel  Fairfax  came  home  from 
business  there  was  the  sound  of  music  in  the  house, 
and  there  were  to  be  seen,  Zoe  at  the  piano  and  near 
her  Castlemere  with  the  broad  embroidered  ribbon 
of  his  guitar  crossing  his  shoulder.  Sometimes  Sally 
Burgoyne  assisted  with  her  mandolin  or  in  a  piano 
duet.  In  some  nook  of  the  place  would  be  seated 


Jasper  Fairfax.  227 

Mrs.  Fairfax  and  the  countess,  perhaps  Mrs.  Bur- 
goyne.  There  were  always  some  one  or  two  of  the 
family  with  the  young  man,  and  he  and  Zoe  were 
never  actually  alone  together.  But,  their  music  was 
absorbing.  They  were  not  interrupted  in  practicing 
it,  nor  in  their  talking  it  over. 

The  father,  noting  these  things  would  not  have 
been  surprised  to  have  the  young  foreigner  approach 
him  "in  accordance  with  the  usage  of  his  country." 
Until  that  happened,  he  must  remain  passive.  He 
shrunk  from  speaking  seriously  to  Zoe,  and,  not  one 
more  word  to  his  wife.  She  seemed  to  grow  thinner, 
more  languid,  each  day.  He  hoped  that  Zoe  might 
see  the  man  in  his  real  character.  So,  he  made  no 
more  open  objection  to  him.  He  feigned  indifference, 
masking  as  he  could  his  contempt. 

The  Countess  was  talking  of  going  away  soon; 
where  she  did  not  know.  She  and  her  son  knew  of 
many  pleasant  retreats  in  many  lands.  They  talked 
to  Zoe  and  her  mother  of  going  with  them,  but  this 
Mrs.  Fairfax  knew  she  dare  not  think  of. 

Fairfax,  hearing  of  this  proposed  flitting,  watched 
the  coming  of  the  Spring  with  impatience.  He  wished 
"he  might  for  one  instant  sieze  the  glass  of  time  and 
shake  it  till  the  burning  sun  of  July  should  suddenly 
glow  in  the  heavens.  He  hoped  that  Castlemere  was 
only  amusing  himself.  If  he  went  away  without  for- 
mally declaring  himself,  Zoe  might  be  disappointed, 
but,  she  would  forget  him;  she  must  forget  him. 
Never  had  girl  so  devoted  a  father  in  place  of  an  un- 
worthy admirer  as  he  would  be  to  her. 


228  Jasper  Fairfax. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

The  farmers  called  it  an  early  Spring.  Easter  Sun- 
day was  balmy,  and  odorous  with  the  blossoms  of 
fruit  trees,  the  budding  of  beech  and  maple,  with 
young  grass  and  clover,  and  the  pervading  scent  of 
fresh  earth  from  plowed  fields.  The  young  year  was 
full  of  promise. 

It  was  the  middle  of  the  week  after  Easter  that 
Colonel  Fairfax  sat  in  his  office  idly  gazing  out  of  the 
open  window.  His  mind  was  continually  on  the  rack. 
The  visitors  at  Burgoyne's  place  still  tarried,  still 
frequented  his  own  house.  He  had  spoken  to  Mrs. 
Fairfax  about  plans  for  the  summer,  but  she  replied 
evasively.  He  asked  Zoe  in  her  presence  if  she  would 
like  to  cross  the  water,  and  she  too  gave  an  indirect 
reply.  Only  this  morning  there  had  been  one  of  these 
unsatisfactory  conversations  at  the  breakfast  table. 
Nothing  had  been  determined  upon,  and  soon  after 
the  colonel  and  Westlake  left  the  house  together. 

Before  they  reached  the  gate,  Fairfax  said:  "If 
'twere  not  for  Marcia's  state  of  health,  I'd  decide  this 
matter  in  a  hurry." 

"  Seems  to  me  for  that  very  reason  you  ought  to 
decide  it." 

"  I  don't  believe  you  know  how  weak  she's  grown; 
and  any  excitement  brings  on  those  terrible  par- 
oxysms of  coughing.  Henry  fears  hemorrhage." 

"  What  does  he  say  about  change  of  air?  " 

"  Very  little.     He  advises  quiet,  ease  of  mind  and 


Jasper  Fairfax.  229 

all  that.  It's  what  he  doesn't  say  that  troubles  me. 
I'm  afraid  he  has  no  hope,  and  feels  that  she  may  be 
more  comfortable  at  home." 

"  That's  very  often  the  case." 

"  I  believe  mountain  air  would  be  beneficial,  but 
I  can't  force  her  to  go." 

There  was  a  sharp  clatter  of  hoofs,  and  around  a 
bend  in  the  road  came  Sally  Burgoyne,  and  her 
cousin  on  horseback.  Sally  drew  rein,  and  asked 
gaily  if  Zoe  would  be  ready. 

"  I  think  so,"  Fairfax  answered,  not  deigning  to 
mention  that  he  knew  nothing  of  the  day's  program. 
As  the  young  riders  passed  on,  he  asked  Westlake: 
"  Do  you  know  where  they  are  going?  " 

"  Not  I,  but  of  course  Marcia  knows." 

Fairfax  muttered  a  curse.  Westlake  quoted:  "I 
do  not  like  you  Doctor  Fell." 

"  I  know  why  I  don't  like  this  fellow.  I  wish  I 
could  persuade  myself  that  Marcia  is  right, — that  I 
am  prejudiced.  However,  I  hope  they'll  soon  be 
gone." 

They  rode  on  in  silence.  It  was  a  bad  beginning 
of  the  day,  but,  there  was  no  sign  of  perturbation  on 
the  handsome  face  of  the  president  of  the  bank  as  he 
greeted  his  co-workers.  He  took  up  the  business 
of  the  morning,  and  worked  at  it  resolutely  for  an 
hour,  then  suddenly,  as  if  some  bolt  or  pulley  in  the 
mental  machinery  had  refused  to  work,  he  stopped. 
He  could  not  have  told  how  long  he  had  sat  gazing 
out  of  the  window  and  seeing  nothing  when  one  of 
the  clerks  came  in  and  handed  him  a  card.  He  took 
it  and  read: 


230  Jasper  Fairfax. 

Goeffrey  Carleton  Q.  C. 

London,  England. 

Only  for  an  instant  he  wondered  what  it  could 
mean;  then  came  the  rememberance  of  his  kindred 
across  the  sea.  All  these  months  he  had  been  so 
absorbed  in  his  immediate  surroundings  he  had  for- 
gotten, for  the  time,  the  grief  in  Treslyn  Castle. 
When  the  door  opened  again  he  rose  to  meet  a  large, 
robust,  typical  Englishman.  Fair  and  florid,  side- 
whiskered  and  bald.  That  much  was  to  be  seen  at  a 
glance.  The  two  men,  whose  eyes  were  on  a  level, 
clasped  hands,  and  mentally  took  each  other's 
measure. 

As  the  lawyer  seated  himself  he  said  abruptly: 
"  Colonel  Fairfax  I  wish  in  my  soul  that  you  were 
yourself  the  heir  I  am  seeking  for  the  Treslyn  title 
and  estate." 

"  Thank  you  for  your  good  wishes.  I  am  not 
covetous.  Since  I  am  not  the  heir,  what  can  I  do  for 
you?" 

"A  very  great  favor;  and  yet  a  mere  technicality. 
We've  been  delayed  owing  to  the  feebleness  of  Lord 
Treslyn.  Miss  Fairfax  and  her  sister  knew  of  the 
receipt  of  a  letter  by  their  grandfather  from  an  Amer- 
ican cousin  who,  they  said  visited  them  when  they 
were  children. 

"  Yes,"  the  colonel  assented,  "and  Leigh  Fairfax 
and  I  carried  on  a  correspondence  for  two  years  or 
more." 

"  Not  one  scrap  of  a  letter  could  be  found  amongst 
his  papers.  He  was  careless  of  such  matters." 


Jasper  Fairfax.  231 

"One  must  be  sometimes.  Letters  accumulate  and 
become  a  nuisance.  I  doubt  if  I  have  one  of  his." 

"  Your  letter  last  winter  to  Lord  Treslyn  also  dis- 
appeared, and  the  broken  old  man  could  not  remem- 
ber in  what  spot  of  this  great  continent  you  lived. 
However,  he  remembered  your  baptismal  name,  as 
did  Miss  Fairfax.  We  tried  'personals'  in  several 
New  York  papers  without  results.  As  a  last  resort 
I  wrote  to  the  secretary  of  the  British  Legation  at 
Washington  who  is  a  friend  of  mine.  He  has  been 
in  Washington  for  fifteen  years.  His  answer  waSj 
that  for  some  time  he  had  known  a  boy  named  Jasper 
Fairfax;  that,  struck  by  his  personnel,  he  had  inquir- 
ed into  his  history.  He  learned  that  he  was  the  son 
of  a  widow,  that  they  were  poor,  but  of  excellent 
family,  and  a  few  other  unimportant  matters. 

"  I  had  always  had  a  great  desire  to  visit  America. 
In  this  case  I  was  quite  sure  that  a  personal  investig- 
ation would  be  more  satisfactory,  as  well  as  more 
economical  of  time  than  correspondence.  Time  is 
of  consequence.  Lord  Treslyn  is  failing  rapidly. 
He  wishes  most  anxiously  that  his  successor  should 
be  there  before  his  death.  I  believe  the  conditions 
of  the  charter  too  make  some  such  requirement.  At 
least  the  passing  lord  must  be  cognizant  of  his  suc- 
cessor. 

"Upon  my  arrival  in  Washington  I  very  easily 
traced  the  young  man  described.  I  find  him  a  most 
estimable  youth ;  a  son  any  father  might  be  proud  of. 
I  found  too,  that  his  mother  is  not  a  widow  save  by 
the  grace  of  the  law.  Further  I  discovered  that  this 
young  man  is  the  son  of  the  cousin  who  is  remember- 
ed by  Lord  Treslyn  and  his  grand-daughters;  and 


232  Jasper  Fairfax. 

who,  according  to  the  charter  of  the  title  has  for- 
feited both  it  and  the  estate.  The  young  man's 
mother,  a  most  charming  woman,  gave  me  the  whole 
history  of  the  sad  affair.  Believe  me,  Colonel  Fair- 
fax you  have  my  heartiest  sympathy." 

"  Thank  you/'was  answered  stiffly. 

"  Now  what  we  want  of  you,  Colonel,  as  I  said  be- 
fore, is  the  merest  technicality.  Owing  to  the  peculi- 
arities of  the  case,  we  take  your  deposition  as  it  were." 

While  Mr.  Carleton  was  speaking  he  had  opened 
a  long  shiny  leather  pocket  book,  and,  taking  from  it 
a  folded  sheet  of  legal  cap,  he  spread  it  on  the  desk  in 
front  of  Fairfax. 

"  Here  are  a  few  queries,  a  few  blanks  which  you 
will  kindly  fill  out  with  your  name,  or  with  other 
words  and  dates  as  you  will  readily  see." 

Fairfax,  without  in  the  least  changing  his  position 
or  his  countenance,  and  with  but  a  glance  at  the 
document,  answered: 

"That's  all  very  well,  Mr.  Carleton.  As  to  this 
boy  who  bears  my  name,  I  have  only  to  say.  I've 
never  seen  him;  know  nothing  of  him." 

"  Certainly  sir,  you  knew  of  his  existence?  " 

"  I  had  a  letter  from  my  divorced  wife's  father 
telling  me  of  the  birth  of  the  child.  Needless  to  say, 
perhaps,  the  1  etter  was  not  acknowledged,  and  I 
never  had  a  second." 

"Am  I  to  understand  sir,  that  you  doubt  the 
paternity  of  the  boy?  " 

"  No,  sir,  you're  to  understand  no  such  damned 
thing.  His  mother  was  my  wife." 

"  Then,  do  you  object  to  the  young  man  inheriting 
this  title  and  estate?  " 


Jasper  Fairfax.  233 

"Not  in  the  least;  but  he  must  come  into  posses- 
sion without  the  stroke  of  pen  of  mine." 
"  But,  my  dear  sir,  why  this  attitude?  " 
Fairfax  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  laughed  in 
the  lawyer's  face. 

"Are  you  feeble-minded,  or  do  you  think  I  am?  " 
"  I  am  sure,   Colonel   Fairfax,   I  see  no  sign  of 
weakness  in  your  mental  faculties,  and  I  think   I 
know  myself  pretty  well."  and  the  lawyer  laughed  in 
his  turn. 

"  Yet  you  ask  me  to  put  my  name  here,  and  there, 
and  there,  saying  this  unknown  youngster  is  my 
son  by  my  wife  Adelaide  Fairfax,  nee  Francis.  Mar- 
ried on  such  a  date,  son  born  on  such  another  date. 
You  probably  do  not  know  that  I  married  a  second 
time?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  knew  of  your  second  marriage.  I 
know  too  that  you  have  a  charming  daughter." 

"All  that,  and  also  what  effect  the  signing  of  my 
name  here,  and  there,  and  there,  would  have  on  my 
daughter's  inheritance." 

"  Well  bless  my  soul  sir,  if  you  take  that  view  of 
it.— 

"  What  view  did  you  expect  me  to  take  of  it?  " 
"  Why,  my  dear  sir,  don't  American  fathers  pro- 
vide for  all  their  children?  " 

"  Not  always,  neither  do  English  fathers." 
"  But  all  children  born,  in  wedlock?  " 
"  It  depends  entirely  upon  circumstances.      The 
circumstances  in  this  case,  in  its  present  stage,  are 
such  that  I,  in  a  measure  control  them.     When  my 
first  wife  insisted  on  an  absolute  divorce,  she  held 
the  whip.     I  was  scourged  by  her,  by  her  father,  and 


234  Jasper  Fairfax. 

the  fortunes  of  war.  I  lost  my  wife  and  much  of  my 
patrimony.  I  passed  several  miserable  years  in  tent 
and  field.  I  was  wounded,  ill,  a  prisoner,  and,  de- 
feated at  last.  Out  of  that  grievous  time,  after  all 
these  years,  comes  this  boy.  He  first  saw  the  light 
where  the  door  was  shut  in  my  face  because  I  stood 
by  my  principles.  He  has  always  lived  with  my 
enemies.  But,  I  wish  him  no  harm;  I  have  no  wish 
concerning  him.  I  don't  know  him,  nor  care  to 
hear  of  him.  I  am  entirely  indifferent  as  to  what  ul- 
timately becomes  of  him.  You  may  give  him  this 
estate,  or  you  may  give  him  to  the  devil ;  but,  of  one 
thing  be  sure:  I  put  my  name  to  no  instrument  like 
that  in  his  behalf." 

"  But,  Colonel  Fairfax,  what  are  we  to  do?  " 

"  Take  the  word  of  the  boy's  mother.  I'll  never 
dispute  it." 

"That,  under  the  circumstances  will  not  satisfy 
English  law." 

"  Damn  English  law ;"  and  Fairfax  leaned  back  in 
his  chair  as  if  the  interview  was  ended. 

"  I  did  not  mention  that  young  Fairfax  and  his 
mother  came  with  me  from  Washington  and — " 

"Are  they  here?  " 

"No:  no  they  went  further,  to  Lexington,  the 
native  city  of  the  lady  I  believe.  There  was  the  death 
of  a  relative  and  some  business  matters  to  attend. 
I  await  them  here,  and  we  go  back  to  Washington, — 
I  had  hoped,  to  England  together." 

"  I  see  no  good  reason  for  a  change  in  your  pro- 
gram. While  you  are  waiting  for  the  coming  of  your 
client  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  you  at  Fairfax  Farms. 
I  shall  be  delighted  to  do  anything  for  you  but — " 


Jasper  Fairfax.  235 

"But  this  one  thing?  Ha!  Ha!  Thank  you,  Col- 
onel. I  shall  certainly  hope  to  see  you  again.  Think 
this  matter  over.  We  only  want  justice." 

"You  shall  have  justice;  probably  not  precisely  as 
you  see  it,  but  of  the  sort  that  Kentucky  produces." 

The  two  men  shook  hands  in  the  most  amicable 
manner.  The  Englishman  went  out  to  gaze  on  the 
beauties  of  the  American  spring  and  to  ponder  on  the 
far-sightedness  of  the  American  farmer,  banker,  and 
ex-colonel  in  the  Confederate  army. 

"What  a  pity!"  he  soliloquized;  "what  a  thou- 
sand pities!  Such  a  fine  figure  of  a  man  as  he  is! 
How  well  he  would  grace  Treslyn  Castle!  Even  in 
the  House  of  Lords  he  would  be  a  man  to  catch  the 
eye,  and  bless  my  soul!  the  ear  too.  What  a  pity 
that  handsome  woman  couldn't  have  kept  him  on  the 
right  side  of  the  war.  He  must  have  been  very  much 
in  earnest.  He'll  never  sign  these  papers.  No,  he's 
not  the  man  for  that.  The  estate  must  go,  and  the 
title  die  with  old  Leigh.  Pity  for  the  boy.  He's  poor, 
but  he's  worthy  of  his  father,  quite  worthy,'* 


236  Jasper  Fairfax. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

That  evening  as  the  two  men  rode  homeward,  Fair- 
fax described  to  his  brother-in-law  his  interview  with 
the  English  lawyer,  finishing  with  "Of  course  you 
knew  of  my  first  marriage?  " 

"  Yes,  I  knew  of  it.  Marcia  told  me  of  it,  and  in- 
cidentally Jerome  has  mentioned  it." 

"Jerome  was  in  the  inner  circle:  Best  man  at  the 
wedding,  and  less  than  four  months  later  met  Ade- 
laide's lawyer  to  arrange  terms  of  divorce." 

"  If  an  annulled  marriage  could  be  made  a  finality, 
but,  there  are  always  troublesome,  or  at  least  em- 
barrassing consequences.  I've  felt  afraid,  always 
that  you  might  hear  from  the  Francis  family  in  an 
unpleasant  way." 

"Of  course,  but,  I  don't  mind  this.  I  know  the 
nature  of  this  bother,  and  I  know  how  to  meet  it. 
One  never  can  tell  what  consequence  may  grow  out 
of  even  a  trivial  action,  nor  where  the  consequence 
may  crop  out.  When  it  comes  to  such  a  tragedy  as 
Adelaide  and  I  enacted,  my  only  surprise  is  that  the 
after  effects  have  been  so  slow  in  coming,  and  are  not 
more  serious  now  that  they  are  here." 

"You're  not  through  yet.  It  may  be  serious 
enough." 

"  Unless  there  arise  some  complications,  and  I 
can't  see  where  there's  chance  for  any  but  the  very 
plainest  of  sailing.  I  wish  this  matter  at  home  could 
be  disposed  of  as  easily.  But  that's  an  alien  affair. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  237 

I  can't  see  that  it  in  any  manner  belongs  to  me.  I 
don't  understand  why  these  quadroons  should  be 
foisted  upon  me.  If  I,  or  any  of  my  name  had  ever 
been  concerned  in  mixing  the  two  races,  I  could 
accept  Burgoyne  and  all  his  brood.  I  don't  deny 
that  once,  I  came  devilish  near  it;  but  my  reform- 
ation was  complete  while  the  girl  was  alive  and  stain- 
less. If  she  had  lived  another  twelve  hours,  she 
would  have  been  free  to  go  where  she  pleased.  If 
the  gods  are  treasuring  that  offense  against  me, 
seems  to  me  they've  grown  picayunish,  or  turned  Re- 
publican in  politics." 

"Ha!  Ha!  Ha!"   laughed  Westlake. 

"  You  see  Colonel,  the  moral  is  in  the  intent  not 
in  the  action." 

"  Seems  to  me,  for  my  intent,  the  loss  of  a  big 
substantial  house  with  its  thousands  of  dollars  worth 
of  furnishings,  as  well  as  the  two  chattels  ought  to 
be  accepted  as  fair  payment.  No,  that's  far  fetched. 
I  see  no  connection  between  that  time  and  this;"  and 
he  fell  to  musing  of  things  that  were  not  pleasant. 
Though  he  put  a  brave  face  on  the  matter,  the  visit 
of  Carleton  had  been  like  the  rough  touch  of  a  care- 
less hand  on  a  half  healed  wound. 

His  life  had  been  so  full  of  action  since  the  separ- 
ation from  Adelaide  it  seemed  sometimes  as  if  it  had 
been  but  a  dream  that  he  had  ever  been  supremely 
happy  for  a  little  while,  then  numbly  wretched,  stol- 
idly miserable,  too  crushed  and  hopeless  even  to 
know  how  he  was  suffering.  He  suffered  with  all 
the  strength  of  his  soul  and  his  body,  and  when  men 
friends  watched  to  see  him  break,  to  show  some  sign 
of  weakness,  he  guessed  their  thought,  and  wished 


238  Jasper  Fairfax. 

he  could  feel  like  plunging  into  excesses  and  carous- 
ing time  into  eternity.  But,  his  smoothe  fine  face 
never  showed  a  line.  When,  at  their  last  meeting 
and  after  all  arguments,  all  pleadings  with  Adelaide 
had  not  moved  her  to  forego  an  absolute  divorce,  and 
she  had  said  she  would  resume  her  maiden  name,  as 
he  might  wish  to  marry  again,  he  answered  her  as  he 
had  answered  Salome:  "Certainly  I  shall  marry.  A 
man  in  my  position  must  marry." 

Now  it  all  came  back  to  him,  and  his  thoughts 
settled  down  and  wound  themselves  about  the  one 
couplet  he  remembered  of  a  poem  he  had  read  some 
time,  somewhere.  The  hoofs  of  the  horses  beat  it  out 
as  they  trotted  over  the  smoothe  shady  road,  and  he 
came  near  answering  Westlake's  desultory  talk  with: 

"  There  is  mockery  in  our  wooing,  there  is  death 

in  all  our  houses; 
He  liveth  best  who  lovest  least,  the  fool  alone 

espouses." 

Of  the  women  he  had  loved,  of  the  children  that 
were  born  to  him,  could  he  say  there  had  not  been 
more  of  bane  than  blessing?  Salome,  Adelaide,  Mar- 
cia.  Of  his  wife  his  thoughts  were  kindly,  pitying. 
In  her  weakness  was  her  strength.  He  must  stand 
like  the  great  rock  by  the  sea,  and  let  the  waves  dash 
against  him,  knowing  the  waves  were  growing 
weaker,  less  frequent,  and  bye  and  bye  would  be  gone 
with  the  tide  and  reach  him  no  more. 

And  Zoe.  How  sweet  she  was  as  a  baby!  As  a 
wee  maiden  how  she  had  always  come  flying  down 
the  drive  to  meet  him,  to  shower  him  with  kisses, 
wilted  flowers,  candies.  Forcing  upon  him  a  doll,  a 


Jasper  Fairfax.  239 

kitten  a  puppy,  anything  she  had  achieved  in  his  ab- 
sence, and  assuring  him  in  baby  patois  that  she  had 
been  "awfu'  lonesing  all  day  widout  oo."  As  a  slim 
school-girl  how  sensitive  she  had  been  to  his  praise. 
As  she  grew  older,  as  he  watched  her  development 
into  womanhood,  beautiful,  gracious,  how  precious 
she  grew  day  by  day.  Now  to  see  her  being  bewitch- 
ed by  this  dark-faced  foreigner;  to  be  forced  to  re- 
main passive  while  she  was  wooed  away  from  all 
that  was  best  for  her,  to  feel  himself  powerless  where 
her  whole  future  was  concerned,  made  him  wish  she 
had  never  been  born.  But,  would  he  not  be  justified 
in  exerting  his  authority  against  the  tacit  if  not  open 
encouragement  of  his  wife?  Dr.  Dome  had 
urged  upon  him  the  necessity  of  avoidance  of  excite- 
ment. "  She  is  so  weak,"  he  said,  "a  hemorrhage 
would  make  short  work  of  her."  There  was  nothing 
to  do  but  to  drift.  He  had  reached  this  conclusion 
as  the  horses  stopped  at  the  gate.  It  swung  open,, 
and  as  they  neared  the  house  he  saw  Sally  Burgoyne 
and  Clay  Jerome  on  the  veranda.  Their  horses  were 
held  by  a  boy  just  beyond  the  steps.  He  saw  his 
wife  rise  from  a  settee  and  disappear  within  the  hall 
as  his  own  team  stopped. 

He  greeted  the  young  people,  glanced  at  their 
horses,  then,  "When  did  you  arrive?  " 

"Just  this  minute,"  Clay  begun,  then  seeing  Fairfax 
look  again  at  the  horses,  he  hesitated,  and  turning  to 
Sally:  "I  think  about  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  ago." 

Sally,  less  diplomatic  said,  earnestly,  "Oh  longer 
than  that,  the  clock  was  striking  five  as  we  came  up 
the  steps — you  remember  I  counted,  and  the  half 
hour  sounded  some  time  ago.  I  can't  imagine  what 
is  keeping  Zoe  and  cousin  Guido." 


240  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"  Where  did  you  leave  them?  "  Fairfax  asked. 

"We  started,  all  together  from  the  falls,"  Clay 
said,  "but  Guide's  horse  fell  lame,  and  I  don't  re- 
member just  where  we  lost  sight  of  them." 

"  Prax,"  Fairfax  called  to  the  man  just  within  the 
hall,  "tell  Tim  to  saddle  Flash  for  me.  Be  in  a  hurry." 

Westlake  attempted  to  remonstrate  as  Fairfax 
walked  up  and  down  the  pavement  at  the  foot  of  the 
steps,  but  he  cut  short  in  a  way  his  brother-in-law 
had  never  spoken  to  him  before. 

"  Will  that  boy  be  all  night?  " 

Just  then  Tim  came,  man  and  horse  both  running. 
Fairfax  had  swung  himself  into  the  saddle  when  Sally 
exclaimed: 

"Oh  Colonel  there  they  are,  don't  go.  Oh  I'm  so 
glad!" 

"A  very  lame  horse,  too,"  Fairfax  snarled.  "  I 
thought  better  of  you,  Clay." 

The  young  man  ran  down  the  steps  and  stood  be- 
side Fairfax:  "Upon  my  word  Colonel,  the  horse 
limped." 

"Another  trick,"  and  as  the  riders  approached  Fair- 
fax dismounted,  his  horse  was  led  away  but  he  kept 
his  riding  whip  in  his  hand.  As  the  two  came  up 
he  seized  the  rein  of  Castlemere's  horse  with  one 
hand  and  raised  the  whip. 

"Oh  papa!  papa!"  was  the  scream  he  heard  and 
in  the  same  instant  he  felt  his  uplifted  arm  grasped 
by  two  slender,  quivering  hands,  and,  spoken  close 
to  his  face,  "Jasper,  what  do  you  mean?  Are  you 
crazy?  " 

Slowly  his  arm  descended  till  the  whip  trailed  on 
the  ground.  He  dropped  his  hand  from  the  bridle, 
and  drew  that  of  his  wife  within  his  arm. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  241 

Castlemere  leaped  from  his  horse  and,  his  hand- 
some face  glowing  and  defiant  said:  "Colonel  Fair- 
fax, I  ask  your  pardon  for  one  thing :  for  speaking  to 
your  daughter  before  asking  your  permission  to  do 
so;  but,  I  have  been  assured  that  it  is  the  custom  of 
the  country.  I  do  not  ask  pardon  for  making  for 
myself  an  opportunity  to  speak  to  her.  She  went 
with  this  little  party  to-day  with  her  mother's  con- 
sent. I  have  done  no  wrong.  I  love  her.  I  want 
her  for  my  wife." 

Zoe  stood  beside  him  with  downcast  eyes  and 
flushed  cheeks.  Fairfax  looked  at  her,  not  at  Castle- 
mere.  There  was  but  one  conclusion.  She  had 
listened,  she  had  given  her  word.  But,  her  father 
would  not  give  up  the  fight.  He  would  take  time. 
This  dark-eyed,  brigandish,  dashing  stripling  should 
not  rob  him  thus  suddenly.  Almost  in  a  whisper  he 
said:  "I  know  nothing  of  you.  I  don't  believe  in 
you.  I  would  rather  give  all  the  remaining  years  of 
my  life  than  that  this  had  happened." 

Taking  Zoe's  hand  he  said,  "Go  in  the  house,  dar- 
ling. I'll  talk  to  you  bye  and  bye.  After  that,  sir," 
turning  to  Castlemere,  "I'll  answer  you.  Now  go, 
and  don't  let  me  see  you  here  again  until  I  send  for 
you." 

Castlemere  bowed  low,  took  a  step  forward  as  if  he 
would  detain  Zoe,  but  the  uplifted  hand  of  her  father, 
still  holding  the  whip,  intercepted  him.  He  bowed 
to  Mrs.  Fairfax,  and  the  Colonel  could  have  sworn 
he  saw  a  smile  gleam  in  the  dark  eyes,  to  be  answered 
by  a  most  kindly,  "Good  night,  Guido,"  from  the  lady. 
He  mounted  his  horse,  and  the  other  two  joining 
him  they  cantered  away  together. 


242  Jasper  Fairfax. 

In  the  heat  of  anger,  in  the  storm  of  indignation 
it  had  been  easy  for  Fairfax  to  say  he  would  talk  to 
Zoe.  Afterwards  he  found  it  was  one  promise  he 
had  made  that  he  was  inclined  to  shirk.  It  seemed 
a  profanation  of  her  maidenly  innocence.  The  longer 
he  thought  of  it,  the  more  repugnant  the  matter  be- 
came. 

There  was  an  air  about  the  house  that  had  never 
been  there  before,  an  air  of  reserve,  strange  and  chil- 
ling. No  matter  how  any  or  all  of  the  family  tried 
to  ignore  it,  it  was  there. 

Zoe  avoided  her  father's  presence.  She  did  not 
speak  to  him  excepting  he  addressed  her  directly. 
He  was  more  than  usually  kind  and  tender  towards 
her  without  the  return  of  a  single  smile.  When  he 
kissed  her  good-bye  at  going  away  of  mornings,  and 
in  continuance  of  a  habit  formed  in  her  childhood 
said:  "Be  papa's  good  girl,"  she  answered,  "Yes, 
papa,"  in  a  tone  that  gave  him  a  heart-ache  for  the 
rest  of  the  day. 

Very  soon  it  was  discovered  there  was  much  gos- 
sip afloat.  Sally  Burgoyne,  frightened  at  the  behav- 
iour of  Colonel  Fairfax,  indignant  at  his  treatment 
of  her  cousin,  had  reached  home  in  a  state  bordering 
on  hysteria.  She  had  excitedly  told  the  whole  story 
in  the  presence  of  her  parents,  Countess  Castlemere, 
and  a  few  callers,  as  well  as  her  brothers  and  sisters 
and  a  half  dozen  gapeing  servants. 

Within  a  day  or  two,  stories  were  abroad  to  the 
effect  that  there  was  a  most  grievous  offence  to  an- 
swer for;  that  Colonel  Fairfax  had  severely  beaten 
the  young  'count,  and  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  in- 
terference of  Mrs.  Fairfax  there  would  have  been 


Jasper   Fairfax.  243 

murder.  When  curious  persons  sought  out  Clay 
Jerome  and  asked  for  the  truth  of  the  matter  he  gave 
it.  He  and  Castlemere  were  friends,  but,  Colonel 
Fairfax  was  his  ideal.  After  many  inquiries  had 
been  made  of  him  as  to  the  exact  occurrence  at  Fair- 
fax Farms,  he  counselled  with  his  mother.  What 
could  be  done?  What  ought  to  be  done  to  stop  the 
tongues  of  the  gossips? 

Mrs.  Jerome  was  shocked  to  hear  of  the  many  un- 
reasonable versions  of  what  had  really  happened. 
She  decided  to  speak  to  Mrs.  Fairfax  about  it  at  once. 
It  was  a  shame  that  a  half  hour's  recklessness  in  a 
young  man,  and  a  thoughtless  girl's  acquiescence 
should  create  a  scandal.  She  would  do  as  she  would 
thank  a  friend  to  do  for  her  in  like  case. 

Much  to  her  surprise  she  was  not  allowed  to  in- 
troduce the  subject.  Mrs.  Fairfax  took  the  initiative. 
She  deplored  the  behaviour  of  her  husband.  He  had 
disgraced  himself  and  his  family.  Her  indignation 
was  boundless.  It  was  his  hot-headedness,  his  pre- 
judice. He  was  breaking  her  heart  through  his 
cruelty  to  Zoe.  There  was  not  the  least  palliation  for 
his  conduct.  She  was  sure  he  would  have  killed 
Guido  if  she  had  not  held  his  arm. 

Mrs.  Jerome  smiled  in  her  handkerchief.  She  had 
seen  her  husband  try  to  hold  the  arm  of  Jasper  Fair- 
fax. 

Her  hostess  continued  to  pour  out  her  grievances 
in  regard  to  her  husband's  opposition  to  young  Castle- 
mere.  "  No  girl  in  Kentucky,  nor  in  America"  she 
declared,  "would  allow  a  suitor  like  Guido  to  sue  in 
vain." 

Mrs.   Jerome   smiled   again.      Her    son   and   the 


244  Jasper  Fairfax. 

young  count,  or  whatever  he  might  be,  she  always 
added  mentally,  were  the  best  of  friends,  as  such 
things  go  between  young  men.  They  were  together 
much  of  the  time.  Castlemere  came  to  the  house 
with  the  greatest  freedom.  But,  when  her  daughter 
was  rallied  by  other  girls  for  allowing  the  fine  match, 
in  spite  of  the  great  advantage  her  brother's  friend- 
ship gave  her,  to  slip  through  her  fingers,  her  reply, 
with  a  dainty  shrug,  and  a  throwing  out  of  her  hands, 
was: 

"  I  agree  fully  with  Zoe's  father.  He  has  always 
suspected  Colonel  Burgoyne  of  being  a  thieving,  run- 
away slave.  So  has  Grandpa  Cogswell.  When  I 
have  a  husband  I  don't  want  a  job-lot  of  assorted 
colors.  I'll  take  him  as  the  newspapers  say  Ken- 
tuckians  take  their  whiskey ; — 'straight.'  " 

Mrs.  Jerome  tried  to  comfort  Mrs.  Fairfax  with 
the  assurance  that  all  the  talk  would  blow  away;  and 
as  the  young  man  had  avowed  his  love  openly,  and 
expressed  a  desire  to  marry  Zoe,  probably  the  wisest 
thing  would  be  to  let  them  consider  themselves 
engaged,  for  a  year  or  two,  and  announce  the  engage- 
ment at  once. 

Yes,  Mrs.  Fairfax  thought  so  too,  but,  no  doubt 
the  Colonel  would  oppose  her  in  this  as  he  had  in 
everything  connected  with  the  young  people,  and  Zoe 
would  die  of  heart-break,  and  she  would  never  dare 
to  lift  her  head  again  amongst  her  neighbors. 

That  evening  the  little  private  parlor  on  the  second 
floor  witnessed  what  might  have  been  a  domestic 
storm,  had  not  Fairfax,  with  all  the  finesse  he  was 
capable  of,  controlled  his  wife's  fretful  mood.  He 
reiterated  his  promise  to  talk  to  Zoe.  She  was  so 


Jasper  Fairfax.  245 

young,  she  did  not  know  her  own  mind.  This  feeling 
she  was  influenced  by  was,  fancy  glamour. 

"  When  will  you  talk  to  her?  "  Mrs.  Fairfax  asked 
scornfully. 

"  Now,  I  reckon,  where  is  she?  " 

"  In  her  room,  I  suppose.  She's  been  suffering 
with  a  headache  all  day.  If  you  had  any  feeling  for 
her  you  would  have  seen  that  she  ate  no  dinner." 

"Of  course  if  she's  ill,  I'll  not  disturb  her." 

Descending  the  stairs  he  came  out  upon  the 
veranda.  The  night  was  warm  and  summer-like. 
Westlake  lounged  in  a  hammock  and  smoked.  The 
trees  were  full  of  summer  sounds,  the  twitter  of  nest- 
ing birds,  the  flutter  of  young  leaves.  But,  in  this 
human  habitation,  divided  against  itself  there  was  no 
comfort  for  the  master  of  all  the  broad  acres.  He 
felt  as  if  laboring  under  the  tortures  of  a  long  con- 
tinued nightmare.  Was  there  no  escape  from  it? 
Could  he  not  influence  Zoe  through  her  affection  for 
him?  Ah  it  was  doubtful.  This  other  love,  this 
mating  of  the  sexes,  this  natural  law,  this  was  the 
strongest  tie  of  all.  If  it  had  been  any  other  man  of 
Zoe's  acquaintance,  any  one  above  the  suspicion  of 
this  one  thing,  he  thought  that,  at  a  suitable  age  he 
could  have  borne,  he  even  would  have  been  pleased 
to  see  his  dear  girl  married. 

In  the  morning  he  would  talk  to  her.  He  would 
take  her  for  a  long  drive;  then  she  could  leave  him 
at  the  bank  after  they  had  talked  it  all  over.  He 
would  tell  her  of  mistakes  he  had  made.  He  would 
tell  her,  perhaps  of  her  half-brother.  He  could  not 
bear  that  she  should  first  hear  of  this  from  any  one 
else. 


246  Jasper  Fairfax. 


CHAPTER  XXVIIL 

Absorbed  in  his  troubled  thoughts  Fairfax  saun- 
tered down  the  steps,  round  the  corner  of  the  house, 
along  the  walk  and  into  the  avenue  of  beeches.  It 
was  a  legend  in  the  family  that  his  great-great  grand-- 
father and  his  brother  had  planted  the  trees,  and  then 
the  beech  twigs  marked  a  path  from  one  log  cabin  to 
the  other.  They  had  paid  a  good  round  price  to 
have  the  county  road  curve  so  as  to  leave  the  trees. 
They  had  been  cared  for  by  all  of  the  name  that  came 
after  the  first  two  for  more  than  a  hundred  years. 
The  Colonel  wondered  now  if  these  gracefully  sweep- 
ing branches  had  ever  shadowed  any  other  man  with 
so  heavy  a  heart  as  his  own.  Had  any  other  Fairfax 
ever  had  so  small  a  hold  on  happiness  as  he?  What 
would  life  and  home  be  without  Zoe?  If  he  must 
give  her  to  this  foreigner,  she  would  go  away,  and  he 
would  prefer  it.  So  strong  was  his  dislike  of  the  man, 
so  settled  his  conviction  that  he  came  of  ignoble 
parentage  he  felt  that  he  could  not  bear  to  have  Zoe 
near  him  not  knowing  what  time  might  bring  to 
prove  that  he  was  right.  He  grew  dizzy  and  faint, 
this  strong  wrestler,  this  champion  swimmer,  this 
soldier  who  had  faced  the  worst  that  four  years  of 
war  could  do.  He  leaned  against  the  trunk  of  a  tree. 
The  perspiration  stood  in  icy  beads  on  his  forehead. 

But  hark !  There  is  a  quick,  light  step  on  the  walk 
towards  the  house.  It  is  not  Marcia,  too  quick,  too 


Jasper  Fairfax.  247 

light  for  her.  Nearer  and  nearer  it  came.  He  peered 
through  the  interlacing  branches.  It  is  Zoe. 

Had  his  intense  thought  summoned  her?  Ah, 
why  had  he  doubted  his  influence?  .He  stepped 
quickly  from  beneath  the  sheltering  branches  and  in- 
to the  open  walk  as  she  came  near. 

"Zoe,  darling,"  he  said,  putting  out  his  hands  to 
detain  her. 

She  started  back  as  if  frightened. 

"Oh  papa!     I — I  didn't  expect  to  see  you! " 

Her  manner,  her  emphasis,  sent  a  chill  over  him. 
He  took  her  hands,  they  were  trembling.  She  sub- 
mitted limply  to  be  detained.  The  words  he  spoke 
came  stiffly,  hoarsely  from  his  lips:  "Whom  did  you 
expect  to  see?  Where  were  you  going?  " 

She  hung  her  head  and  made  the  very  faintest 
movement  of  resistance. 

"Tell  me  daughter,  why  were  you  out  alone  and 
hurrying  away  from  the  house?  Your  mother  said 
you  were  ill." 

"I'm  better.  I  think  the  cool  air  will  do  me 
good." 

"  I  think  so  too.  Come,  if  you  care  to  walk  I'll 
walk  with  you." 

She  drew  back.  "  No,  I'll  go  to  the  house,  please 
papa." 

He  held  her  firmly.  "  Zoe,  look  at  me.  Tell  me 
the  truth.  Where  were  you  going?  and  what  were 
you  going  for?  " 

"Oh  papa,  please  let  me  go." 

"Where  you  going  to  the  ruin?     Tell  me  truly." 

"  Yes,  papa,"  in  the  faintest  whisper. 

"  Were  you  expecting  to  meet  Castlemere?  " 


248  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"  Yes,  papa,"  and  head  and  shoulders  dropped  till 
her  face  rested  on  her  father's  hands  as  they  held  her 
own. 

"Oh  my  daughter!  My  baby!"  He  clasped  her 
closely  in  his  arms.  "  Do  you  doubt  my  love  for  you 
that  you  try  to  deceive  me?  Tell  me  all  about  it.  Have 
you  ever  met  him  there  before?  " 

"  No  papa,  never." 

"  How  was  this  meeting  arranged?  Has  he  been 
to  the  house?  " 

"  No  papa,  he  sent  a  note  by  Jack  Burgoyne." 

"  Does  your  mother  know  of  it?  " 

"  Yes,  papa,  she  said  I  might  see  Guido  at  the 
ruin." 

"Ah  my  poor  little  girl!" 

There  came  to  him  a  swift  vision  of  Zoe  lying  still 
and  white  in  a  darkened  room,  pure,  sweet,  untainted 
by  deceit,  beyond  the  power  of  evil.  In  his  heart  he 
wished  it  was  so  instead  of  this. 

"  Darling,  come  with  me.  I'll  go  with  you  to  the 
ruin." 

"Oh  papa!  "  and  a  white,  convulsed  face  was  lifted, 
"please  don't  go,  you'll  kill  Guido." 

"  Daughter  listen.  For  your  sake,  because  of  my 
love  for  you,  I  would  spare  the  life  of  the  most 
venomous  reptile  that  ever  the  good  God  created,  if 
you  loved  it.  If  you  desired  it,  if  it  were  for  your 
happiness,  it  should  sting  me  to  death  before  your 
eyes.  Come." 

Not  another  word  was  said.  Together  they  went 
down  the  long  avenue,  amongst  the  swaying  shad- 
ows of  the  trees.  The  night  was  still,  a  half  moon 
made  a  mellow  light  over  the  massive  walls,  draped 


Jasper  Fairfax.  249 

with  budding  vines.  The  shrubberies  had  grown  in- 
to a  wilderness,  the  grass,  protected  by  the  untrim- 
med  trees  grew  lush  and  long  and  swept  half  way 
over  the  walks.  Somewhere  amongst  the  walls,  a 
whip-poor-will  whistled,  an  owl  hooted  from  the  top 
of  a  broad  chimney.  Looking  upward,  Fairfax 
plainly  saw  the  night-bird  through  a  rift  in  the  trees, 
outlined  against  the  sky. 

He  pressed  Zoe's  hand.  "  Where  were  you  to 
meet  Castlemere?" 

"  In  the  drawing  room  by  the  big  stone." 

Fairfax  thought  of  it  now,  he  had  thought  of  it  a 
thousand  times.  Knowing  the  house  as  he  had 
known  it,  bearing  in  mind  so  perfectly  the  geography 
of  this  room,  he  would  have  sworn  that  where  that 
stone  lay  was  the  exact  spot  where  he  and  Salome 
had  stood  when  they  were  last  together,  where  he 
left  her  standing  after  kissing  her  hands  and  assuring 
her,  that,  though  she  was  his  slave,  he  would  wait  her 
own  time  to  accept  him  as  her  lover.  Here  too  Tim 
insisted  was  where  the  woman  ghost  sat  looking  into 
the  broken  fire-place  on  the  night  of  Zoe's  birthday 
dance. 

It  was  but  a  flitting  thought,  but  a  ripple  in  the  sea 
of  trouble  that  engulfed  him.  It  was  gone  as  they 
entered  the  door,  and  saw  in  the  soft  light  a  figure, 
motionless  and  dark,  standing  by  the  stone. 

Their  steps  over  the  matted  grass  of  the  walks  had 
not  been  heard,  but  as  they  entered  Castlemere  start- 
ed forward.  He  paused,  seeing  who  had  come,  and 
his  hand  sought  his  bosom. 

"  Colonel  Fairfax,  are  you  armed?  "  and  he  flashed 
a  stiletto  in  the  moonlight. 


250  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"No; — nor  are  you." 

How  it  was  done  Castlemere  never  could  tell.  He 
felt  a  vise-like  grip  on  his  wrist,  it  was  shaken  swiftly, 
dextrously,  and  the  slender  weapon  flew  from  his 
paralyzed  fingers,  looked  a  flash  of  lightning  as  it 
sped  through  a  wide  window,  whizzed  through  the 
branches  of  the  trees,  then  jingled  on  the  debris  of  a 
fallen  wall. 

"  Now,  barbarian,  don't  be  a  fool  if  you  can  help 
it.  Tell  me  in  the  fewest  possible  words  why  you 
inveigled  this  girl  in  to  meeting  you  here.  No  lies, 
or  I'll  wring  your  neck.  Talk  of  arming  myself  to 
meet  you!  " 

"  Colonel  Fairfax  I  asked  your  daughter  to  meet 
me  here  because  you  forbade  me  your  house." 

"  This  is  my  house,  as  well  as  the  other.  I  think 
a  very  small  amount  of  horse  sense  would  have  en- 
abled you  to  understand  that  my  house  covers  a 
number  of  acres  of  land.  I  meant  all  that." 

"  Truly  I  did  not  for  a  moment  misunderstand  you. 
I  know  the  spirit  of  your  command  was  that  I  should 
not  see  your  daughter.  But,  we  are  going  away,  my 
mother  and  I.  We  are  going  home.  From  there, 
somewhere  else  for  the  summer  months.  We  go 
soon.  Our  passage  is  about  to  be  engaged.  You 
said  you  would  talk  to  Zoe  and  would  then  answer 
me.  It  has  been  three  days,  and  I  had  no  message. 
I  had  to  know  before  final  arrangements  were  made 
for  our  going  on  the  City  of  Paris." 

"Why  this  urgency?  I  could  have  sent  my  answer 
to  Madrid,  to  Jericho;  to  Hades." 

"Ha!  Ha!"  laughed  Guide.  "You  are  pleased 
to  be  facetious.  How  can  I  leave  my  love,"  and  he 


Jasper  Fairfax.  251 

extended  his  beautiful  hands  toward  Zoe,  "how  can  I 
leave  her  if  I  may  perhaps  persuade  her  to  go?  Tell 
the  father,  sweet,  that  you  only  await  his  consent. 
The  dear  beautiful  mother  has  already  said  yes." 

Fairfax  was  dumfounded.  How  rapidly  had  these 
matters  progressed  under  his  very  eyes,  and  he  hop- 
ing by  persuasion  to  stay  them;  he  thinking  it  per- 
haps a  boy's  amusement,  a  girl's  infatuation.  Was 
this  an  affair  that  meant  only  extravagant  flatteries? 
Would  the  memory  of  this  soft-tongued  black-amoor 
be  blown  away  by  the  summer  winds  after  he  should 
cross  the  sea?  Evidently  there  would  be  no  chance 
left  to  decide.  And  so,  Mrs.  Fairfax  had  consented 
to  let  the  marriage  take  place  at  once. 

Because  of  the  going  to  Europe  of  one  of  his  de- 
positors, Fairfax  knew  that  the  City  of  Paris  sailed 
from  New  York  for  Havre  on  the  twenty  second. 
This  was  the  twelfth.  Ten  days.  In  that  one  moment 
of  silence  he  knew  that  that  was  the  length  of  time,  or 
really  a  day  or  two  less,  that  he  would  have  his 
daughter  daily  in  his  sight.  He  turned  to  her,  his 
voice  was  low  and  steady.  The  strength  of  endur- 
ance had  come.  He  had  been  shaken  with  grief3 
overwhelmed  by  the  thoughts  of  this  great  loss  when 
it  had  seemed  possible  to  avert  it.  Now  it  was  upon 
him.  He  was  numb  and  chilled,  but,  he  was  not 
dead. 

"  Zoe  dear,  do  you  wish  to  be  married  before  the 
twenty  second  and  go  away  then?  " 

"  I've  promised,  papa,  and  we  hoped  you  would  be 
kind,  and  say  good-bye  to  me." 

"Ah! "  the  sigh  came  near  being  a  groan.  "What 
does  your  mother  say?  " 


252  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"  Mama  said  you  would  forgive  me  after  I'd  gone 
away,  and  that  you  and  she  would  join  us  in  Norway, 
or  wherever  we  go  for  the  summer." 

"  Tell  me  Zoe,  was  this  marriage  to  take  place 
without  my  consent?  without  my  knowledge?" 

"  Mama  thought  that  would  be  the  best  way." 

"  Pray  believe  me,  Colonel  Fairfax,  I  meant  to 
speak  to  you.  Clay  Jerome  knows  what  my  inten- 
tion was.  You  remember,  you  said  you  would  send 
for  me." 

"  Yes,  I  remember ;"  and  he  looked  from  one  to 
the  other  of  the  two,  not  much  more  than  children. 
How  could  he  blame  them?  How  could  he  tell  how 
much  Zoe  had  been  influenced  by  her  mother.  She 
had  fancied  Castlemere  from  the  first,  and  she  had 
been  dazzled  by  his  title,  his  evidences  of  wealth  and 
all  that  it  implies.  He  knew  how  ambitious  she  was 
in  things  of  this  kind,  how  much  weight  position  in 
society  had  with  her. 

As  to  Castlemere,  Fairfax  was  sure  that  the  boy's 
mother,  for  reasons  easily  guessed,  had  singled  out 
Zoe  for  her  son's  wife.  She  may  have  been  urged 
to  it  by  Burgoyne.  With  these  two  impulsive  children 
he  felt  no  anger,  though  as  he  gazed  on  Castlemere's 
dark,  handsome  face,  what  he  suspected  him  to  be, 
together  with  old  memories  of  the  spot  on  which 
they  stood  bred  in  him  a  feeling  of  repulsion  that 
was  hard  to  control.  But,  he  put  it  aside.  He  said : 

"  Castlemere,  think  better  of  it.  You  are  too  young 
to  marry.  Go  away  for  a  year.  You  may  send  Zoe 
a  letter  every  day.  Think  of  it.  She  too  is  young. 
This  fancy  you  have  for  each  other  may  wear  away. 
If  it  does,  and  you  are  free  from  each  other  what  a 


Jasper  Fairfax.  253 

fine  thing  it  will  be.  If  you  are  married  and  find 
you've  made  a  mistake  what  a  grief  it  will  be!  " 

"Oh  papa!"  and  Zoe  clung  to  his  arm,  "don't 
send  Guido  away !  " 

"  There  is  one  thing  that  Colonel  Fairfax  forgets ;" 
and  Castlemere  removed  his  hat,  standing  bare- 
headed, the  soft  light  making  an  aureole  of  his 
lustrous  hair.  "Our  riding  party  of  a  few  days  ago 
— how  much  I  regret  it, — but  the  tongues  are  wag- 
ging, saying  cruel  things.  If  I  go  away  alone,  and 
— you  see  little  Zoe  is  nearly  ill  now, — the  cruel 
tongues  will  lash  her  to  death.  I  know  it  is  not  fancy 
we  feel  for  eaih  other.  Oh  believe  me  Senor,  I  love 
your  daughter,  I  cannot  go  and  leave  her." 

While  Castlemere  was  speaking  he  had  moved 
nearer.  Unconsciously,  it  seemed,  Zoe  had  put  out 
her  hand  to  be  clasped  in  both  of  his.  Unconscious- 
ly she  was  drawing  away  from  her  father. 

"  It  is  fate,"  Fairfax  said  under  his  breath,  then 
aloud:  "Ah  yes,  I  see.  It  will  be  as  you  had  ar- 
ranged, without  my  consent  if  you  do  not  get  it.  I'm 
too  late.  But,  listen  to  me  Castlemere.  I  would 
rather  than  this  pale  trembling  girl,  have  given  you 
all  else  I  possess.  I  would  stand  before  you  a  beggar 
in  all  save  my  strength  and  my  possession  of  her. 
I  would  go  into  my  neighbors'  fields  and  work,  day 
by  day  beside  the  black  men  for  her  support.  But 
now  that  you  take  her  instead  of  my  less  valuable 
lands  and  money,  if  ever  you  grow  weary  of  her,  if 
for  one  moment  you  regret  filching  from  me  what 
makes  my  life  worth  living,  then  in  God's  name,  send 
her  to  me,  at  once.  Don't  break  her  heart  by  neglect. 


254  Jasper  Fairfax. 

Don't  be  cruel  to  her,  not  even  by  a  thought.  Will 
you  do  this?" 

"As  the  great  God  hears  me  I  will." 

He  stood  with  right  hand  uplifted,  palm  outward. 
Then,  still  clinging  with  one  hand  to  her  father,  Zoe 
lifted  her  lips  to  meet  her  lover's.  Her  arm,  the  lace 
of  her  sleeve  falling  away  and  leaving  it  bare,  clasped 
his  neck  and  lay  against  his  dark  hair. 

"  Now  go,  Guido,"  she  said  softly  as  she  turned 
from  him  to  her  father. 

"  Good  night  Senor,  and  God  keep  you." 

"  Good-night,"  in  a  hoarse  whisper  from  Fairfax 
as  he  clasped  Zoe's  hand  and  led  her  away. 

In  silence,  as  they  had  come,  they  passed  up  the 
beech  avenue.  As  they  neared  the  house,  they  saw 
Mrs.  Fairfax  pacing  up  and  down  between  the  first  of 
the  trees.  She  heard  their  steps,  peered  into  the 
shadows,  and  recognizing  them  said: 

"  Dear  me,  Jasper,  I  wondered  what  had  become 
of  you." 

"  You  were  not  wondering  about  Zoe,  of  course?  " 

"  I  left  her  in  her  room,  as  I  told  you  and  I  sup- 
posed,— " 

He  faced  her  in  the  light  on  the  first  steps  of  the 
veranda:  "There,  don't  tell  me  what  you  supposed. 
I  know  all  about  it.  Take  Zoe  and  finish  the  work 
you've  been  at  for  the  last  several  months.  There  is 
no  more  need  of  deception.  Prepare  her  as  you  will 
for  the  sacrifice.  Invite  any  of  our  friends  you  wish, 
to  witness  our  humiliation.  Our  daughter  will  be 
married  on  the  twentieth,  here  in  this  house.  She 
shall  not  steal  away  from  her  father  like  a  slave." 


Jasper  Fairfax.  255 

"  Well,  I'm  sure  I'm  glad  you've  concluded  to  be 
reasonable.  There's  talk  enough  now." 

"  Thank  yourself  for  the  talk ;  but  let  us  have  no 
more  talk  about  it  here.  Make  what  preparations  you 
please.  Don't  consult  me.  I  want  to  hear  nothing 
of  it  till  the  last  day;  and  mark  this:  As  far  as  I  am 
able  to  judge,  you  are  wholly  responsible  for  Zoe's 
part  in  this  business.  Whatever  comes  to  her  in  the 
future,  you  can  thank  yourself  for  it." 

"  I  am  more  than  willing  to  take  the  whole  re- 
sponsibility of  it,"  and  smiling  placidly  she  led  the 
way  into  the  house. 


256  Jasper  Fairfax. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

Mrs.  Fairfax  told  herself  that  though  she  had  met 
her  own  share  of  disappointments,  she  had  never 
really  known  regret  until  she  faced  the  necessity  of 
making  ready,  in  a  week,  for  her  daughter's  wedding. 
This  event  to  which  she  had  looked  forward  ever 
since  Zoe  was  born,  on  which  she  had  meant  to 
exercise  all  her  taste,  expend  all  her  pride  must  now 
be  hurried  through  like  any  nobody's  wedding.  She 
would  have  much  preferred  to  have  it  go  on  as  a  semi- 
elopement.  That  she  had  carte  blanche  as  to  ex- 
penses was  no  comfort,  as  long  as  the  sun  had  never 
been  known  to  stand  still  but  once,  and  Joshua  was 
the  last  of  his  kind. 

When  she  made  her  plaint  to  the  Countess  Castle- 
mere,  she  was  comforted  with  the  assurance  that 
both  she  and  her  son  were  entirely  charmed  with  the 
sweet  bride;  they  cared  nothing  for  her  adornings. 
A  trousseau  would  be  burdensome.  Since  they  were 
going  directly  to  Paris,  the  bare  idea  of  making  pur- 
chases on  this  side  was  next  to  absurd.  There  was 
nothing  outside  of  Paris  that  properly  matched  Zoe's 
delicate  beauty.  In  the  future  every  garment  she 
wore  should  be  purchased  in  this  city  of  artistic 
modes. 

Mrs.  Fairfax  was  comforted.  Very  soon,  next 
year,  perhaps,  she  would  go  to  Europe,  wherever 
Zoe  might  be.  She  felt  sure,  that  then  she  should  see 
her,  matured  into  a  splendid  woman  of  the  world; 


Jasper  Fairfax.  257 

her  bearing,  her  toilettes  those  of  a  queen.  She 
would  find  her  gracing  her  high  position,  and  sham- 
ing her  father's  stubborn,  groundless  suspicions. 
She  found  no  difficulty  in  obeying  her  husband's  in- 
junction in  regard  to  silence  concerning  the  wedding. 
She  was  too  busy  even  with  the  scant  preparations 
she  could  make  to  care  to  talk  of  mornings,  and  of 
evenings,  she  lay  on  her  couch,  utterly  exhausted. 
To  her  husband's  repeated  counsel  to  be  careful,  to 
spare  herself,  she  answered,  sometimes  impatiently, 
sometimes  not  at  all.  He  came  and  went  as  usual, 
keeping  himself  occupied  all  day  long,  keeping  out 
all  thought  of  what  was  coming  save  as  it  remained 
with  him  as  a  sub-consciousness  and  gave  him  a 
heart-ache  and  an  inexpressible  weariness.  By  tacit 
consent  the  wedding  was  not  mentioned  in  his 
presence  at  home,  and  Castlemere  timed  his  daily 
visits  so  as  to  avoid  the  master  of  the  house. 

With  Zoe,  her  father  was  love  and  kindness  per- 
sonified. When  he  went  away  in  the  morning  she 
was  the  last  to  take  leave  of  him  at  the  carriage  step 
or  at  the  stirrup  if  he  rode  Flash.  In  the  evening 
she  was  at  the  gate  to  meet  him,  to  ride  to  the  house 
nestled  against  him  or  perched  behind  him,  both 
laughing  and  gay  as  if  there  was  not  a  care  in  the 
world. 

One  evening  when  her  father  swung  her  down 
from  behind  him,  Tim  said:  "  Miss  Zoe,  I  dun'no 
how  'tis.  Todder  day  at  de  stable  my  gal  done  got 
up  byhint  me  on  Flash,  an'  he  des  got  up  on  he  fo' 
legs  an'  walked  about." 

"  Flash  knows  me,  don't  you  Flash?  "  and  she  ran 


258  Jasper  Fairfax. 

up  the  steps  to  get  from  Sheba  the  hand  full  of  sugar 
with  which  she  always  rewarded  him. 

For  these  few  days  she  was  again  the  petted  little 
child.  If  she  and  her  father  were  in  the  same  room, 
she  sat  on  his  knee,  or  on  the  arm  of  his  chair.  Each 
seemed  trying  to  obliterate  from  the  memory  of  the 
other  the  shadow  of  estrangement  that  had  been 
thrown  between  them  for  that  grievous  little  while. 

At  his  office,  in  the  streets  of  the  town,  in  all  the 
places  his  neighbors  were  accustomed  to  see  him. 
Colonel  Fairfax  was  the  same  affable,  courteous 
friend,  the  same  pleasant,  alert  man  of  business  they 
had  always  known  him. 

The  presence  in  Bellaire  of  so  distinguished  a  per- 
sonage as  the  English  lawyer,  Carleton,  was  not  over- 
looked. Not  many  strangers  of  this  type  visited  the 
community. 

There  was  no  attempt  made  on  his  part,  nor  on  that 
of  Colonel  Fairfax  to  keep  his  mission  a  secret.  They 
were  often  seen  together.  Mr.  Carleton  was  enter- 
tained at  Fairfax  Farms  at  dinner  and  over  night. 
He  was  introduced  to  the  old  friends  of  the  family, 
and  his  stay  in  Bellaire  was  made  pleasant  in  all 
ways  excepting  in  regard  to  the  matter  that  brought 
him  there. 

Whenever,  in  the  course  of  a  conversation  during 
one  of  their  after-lunch  smokes,  or  on  the  long  drives 
they  had  together  through  the  country,  or  when  they 
were  leisurely  strolling  about  town  and  that  one  sub- 
ject was  broached,  Fairfax  would  smilingly  shake  his 
head:  "None  of  that,  Mr.  Carleton.  I've  said  all 
that  I  have  to  say.  Spare  yourself  further  effort  in 
that  direction.  I'll  not  put  my  name  to  this  paper. 


Jasper   Fairfax.  259 

I'll  not  sign  away  one  half  of  my  birthright  for  less 
than  Esau  got  for  his.  When  your  client  comes, 
bundle  him  off  to  England  and  make  a  lord  of  him. 
I've  not  the  least  doubt  but  it  will  be  much  more 
than  his  mother's  son  deserves." 

When  Mr.  Carleton  talked  of  his  business  in  Bel- 
laire  with  the  friends  of  Colonel  Fairfax,  he  found  no 
one  who  sympathized  with  the  divorced  wife.  All 
who  knew  of  that  marriage  and  the  cause  of  its  an- 
nulment agreed  fully  with  the  Colonel.  The  rem- 
nants of  the  fires  of  factional  hatred  blazed  out  on 
several  occasions,  and  Adelaide  Francis  and  her 
father  were  denounced  most  bitterly. 

Mr.  Carleton  found  that  there  were  many  Ameri- 
can matters  that  he  but  faintly  understood.  One  was, 
the  real  cause  of  the  war.  He  had  also  to  wonder 
over  a  most  tantalizing  problem:  Would  the  North 
and  the  South  ever  be  entirely  united? 

Amongst  the  acquaintances  the  Englishman  made 
in  Bellaire,  none  were  kindlier,  or  more  hospitable 
than  Senator  Cogswell.  As  lawyers  the  two  found 
themselves  companionable.  As  an  old  man,  Cogs- 
well gave  the  Englishman  much  interesting  local 
history.  As  a  lifelong  friend  of  the  Fairfax  family 
he  entertained  his  new  acquaintance  for  hours  with 
history,  tradition  and  readings  of  character. 

On  an  evening  when  the  Cogswells  gave  a  little 
family  dinner  with  Mr.  Carleton  as  the  guest  of  honor 
and  the  one  stranger,  he  found  it  necessary  to  ex- 
plain that  he  was  not  remaining  in  Bellaire  with  any 
hope  of  obtaining  the  signature  of  Colonel  Fairfax 
necessary  to  make  his  unacknowledged  son  a  man  of 
wealth  and  title.  He  was  simply  awaiting  the  move- 


260  Jasper  Fairfax. 

ments  of  the  young  man  and  his  mother.  They  were 
in  the  state,  and  for  himself,  he  found  it  pleasanter 
waiting  here  than  in  Washington.  He  had  apprised 
Mrs.  Fairfax  and  her  son  of  the  hopelessness  of  his 
errand  with  the  colonel.  He  had  asked  them  if  it 
might  not  be  worth  their  while  to  stop  here,  and  talk 
the  matter  over  with  him,  and  perhaps  with  Colonel 
Fairfax  himself. 

Then  Mrs.  Cogswell  declared  it  would  be  shameful, 
if  Adelaide  came  to  Bellaire,  to  have  her  stay  at  a 
hotel  and  be  stared  at.  She  must  come  to  us, 
must'nt  she  dear?  "  appealing  to  her  husband. 

"  Certainly  dear,  certainly,"  he  answered. 

They  had  known  Adelaide  since  childhood.  She 
had  gone  to  school  with  their  own  girls.  She  had 
visited  in  Bellaire,  and  they  had  frequently  met  her 
at  summer  and  winter  resorts.  After  several  years 
of  separation,  Mrs.  Cogswell  had  unexpectedly  met 
Adelaide  one  day  on  the  street  in  Washington  and 
the  broken  friendship  was  patched  together.  Now, 
in  return  for  a  few  fragrant  cups  of  tea  served  by  the 
young  to  the  old  woman,  it  was  ordained  that  there 
should  be  a  few  days  of  rest,  and  petting,  and  review- 
ing of  old  happy  times. 

To  all  of  this  Senator  Cogswell  readily  agreed.  It 
had  been  a  hard  struggle  with  him  to  go  to  see  his 
old  friend  Francis,  but,  once  there,  he  was  softened 
by  the  signs  of  poverty  that  surrounded  the  family 
He  thought  that  a  man  who  would  relinquish  all  that 
Archie  Francis  had  for  the  sake  of  principle  must 
have  been  very  much  in  earnest.  He  tried  to  see 
political  matters  from  the  view  point  of  these  im- 
poverished Unionists.  Then  Adelaide; — so  beauti- 


Jasper  Fairfax.  261 

ful,  so  sweet,  so  womanly;  ministering  so  unselfishly 
to  her  father  and  her  son.  Sometimes  Senator  Cogs- 
well would  say  to  his  wife,  "  I  don't  see  how  Jasper 
could  choose  as  he  did!  " 

To  which  Mrs.  Cogswell  would  reply,  "  Well,  dear, 
it's  just  as  hard  for  me  to  comprehend  Adelaide's 
action.  I'm  sure  I  never  could  have  deserted  you." 

"  No  indeed !  and  I'm  not  handsome  like  Jasper ; 
ha!  ha!" 

So,  through  all  these  years,  as  Cogswell  still  re- 
tained his  seat  in  Congress,  he  was  a  frequent  visitor 
at  the  plain  little  home  of  Archibald  Francis.  The 
most  interesting  member  of  the  little  family  was  the 
boy,  Jasper.  The  old  Senator  watching  him  through 
all  this  time  continually  deplored  the  fact  of  his  se- 
paration from  his  father.  Now  when  the  thing  most 
talked  of  was  the  trouble  brewing  at  Fairfax  Farms, 
he  shook  his  head,  saying  to  his  wife,  "Ah  it's  a 
thousand  pities!  That  boy  at  Washington  will  never 
make  such  a  blunder.  Zoe's  a  dear,  sweet  girl,  but, 
she's  like  her  mother;  she's  no  Fairfax." 

Next  in  importance  to  the  coming  wedding  of  Zoe 
Fairfax  was  the  revival  of  the  fact  of  her  father's  first 
marriage  and  its  consequences.  Everybody  knew 
that  the  father  and  son  had  never  met  but  that  the 
English  lawyer  was  going  to  arrange  a  meeting  to 
try  to  effect  a  compromise  in  the  matter  of  the  in- 
heritance across  the  water.  Everybody  knew  more 
of  these  things,  and  felt  greater  anxiety  about  them 
than  did  the  family  directly  concerned.  For  once 
Mrs.  Fairfax  was  too  busy  to  wonder  and  fret  about 
"the  other  Mrs.  Fairfax."  Her  husband  had  told  her 
of  the  first  call  of  the  lawyer  and  what  he  had  deter- 


262  Jasper  Fairfax. 

mined  upon.  She  said  to  her  brother,  "there  was 
no  need  of  worrying,  Jasper  was  too  stubborn  to 
change  his  mind." 

To  Colonel  Fairfax  all  the  buzzing  of  tongues  was 
nothing,  less  than  nothing.  His  first  wife  and  her 
son  might  come  and  go  when  and  where  they  pleased. 
It  mattered  not  to  him.  It  was  this  other,  this  wife 
who  was  dying  before  his  eyes,  this  child  who  was 
making  such  an  irreparable  mistake,  these  troubled 
him.  For  these  he  felt  himself  numb  and  half  dead, 
and  yet  so  painfully  alive  and  conscious.  If  not 
speaking  to  some  one,  it  seemed  to  him  there  were 
only  two  facts  in  the  world:  The  day  of  the  month, 
the  number  of  days  to  elapse  before  Zoe's  wedding. 
At  times  he  felt  that  he  must  cry  out  against  the 
swift  rising  and  setting  of  the  sun.  Then  he  wished 
he  might  fall  asleep  and  so  remain  till  it  was  all  over. 
He  often  smiled  to  think  he  had  ever  before  grieved. 
This  only  was  sorrow. 

Two  days  before  that  appointed  for  the  marriage 
ceremony,  Colonel  Burgoyne  called  upon  Westlake 
at  his  office,  and  after  much  wandering  talk,  finally 
made  it  understood  that  Count  Castlemere  and  his 
mother  expected  something  in  the  way  of  marriage 
settlements;  at  least  an  understanding  as  to  the  sum 
per  annum  that  the  future  countess  would  have  from 
her  father,  or  in  spot  cash  to  take  away  with  her. 

Westlake  threw  up  his  hands  and  backed  away 
laughing: 

"  You  know  how  the  colonel  feels  about  the  mar- 
riage. Do  as  you  think  best  about  speaking  to  him. ' 

"  But  you  manage  much  of  his  business  for  him. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  263 

His  business  man  is  the  proper  person  to  arrange 
the  whole  affair." 

"  Yes,  he  advises  with  me  on  business  matters,  but, 
I'm  entirely  at  his  disposal.  I  wouldn't  take  the 
liberty  of  crossing-  a  T  without  his  full  consent.  I'll 
speak  to  him  in  your  presence,  but  I'm  as  sure  of  the 
answer  as  I  am  that  I'm  alive." 

Together  they  went  to  the  bank,  to  the  private 
office  of  the  president.  Again  Colonel  Burgoyne 
began  meandering  through  a  long  preface. 

Westlake  watched  his  brother-in-law  arranging 
and  re-arranging,  with  quick  nervous  movements, 
the  desk  furnishings.  He  knew  in  a  minute  there 
would  be  a  storm.  With  his  usual  off-hand  manner, 
he  cut  in,  with  "  Come  at  it  at  once,  Colonel,  or  allow 
me  to  say  to  brother  Fairfax  that  you  are  envoy  for 
Count  Castlemere  to  negotiate  marriage  settle- 
ments." 

"Ah!  That  is  easily  disposed  of.  I'm  not  pur- 
chasing Count  Castlemere.  I  don't  want  him.  I 
know  what  my  daughter's  necessities  are,  and  will 
probably  supply  them.  As  to  any  formal  marriage 
settlements,"  he  compressed  his  lips  and  set  his  jaws 
squarely,  "  I  make  nothing  of  the  kind." 

"Of  course  you'll  do  as  you  please;  but,  it  being 
the  custom  of  the  country  where  the  Count  and  your 
daughter  expect  to  live,  you  know — " 

"  I  know  I  don't  care  a  damn  for  the  customs  of 
any  country  but  my  own  in  an  affair  like  this.  If  I 
had  adhered  to  Kentucky  customs  I'd  have  thrashed 
that  gypsy  beggar  within  an  inch  of  his  life." 

"Colonel,  Colonel!"    Westlake  remonstrated. 


264  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"  I  know  what  I'm  saying,  and  to  whom  I'm  saying 
it." 

Burgoyne  rose  to  go.  "  You  cannot  imagine. 
Colonel  Fairfax  how  much  it  grieves  me  that  our 
friendship  should  receive  this  blow;  that  this  tie  that 
should  draw  our  families  nearer  to  each  other  seems 
likely  to  cause  coldness,  if  not  enmity." 

"  Let  us  talk  no  more  about  it.  I've  forbidden 
my  wife  and  daughter  to  mention  it  to  me.  I  only 
wish  to  God  that  Castlemere  would  not  take  the  girl 
without  a  stated  dower." 

"Ah  you  are  not  treating  the  boy  justly.  He 
would  gladly  marry  your  daughter  were  she  disin- 
herited and  a  beggar  in  the  streets." 

"  Possibly,  but  I  don't  believe  it.  But  granting 
you  are  right;  I  like  him  none  the  better.  It  would 
not  cancel,  in  the  least  my  objection  to  him  as  a  hus- 
band for  my  daughter." 


Jasper  Fairfax.  265 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

The  day  before  the  wedding,  and  a  gentle  rain  was 
falling,  a  soft,  lazy,  irresolute  rain;  the  sort  of  rain 
that  tempts  children  to  stay  out  of  doors,  and  that 
hurries  nobody. 

Colonel  Fairfax  sat  in  his  office,  his  desk  open, 
books,  pens,  pencils,  all  the  paraphernalia  of  business 
scattered  about,  partly  from  force  of  habit,  partly  to 
hide  from  any  who  might  come,  the  suffering  that 
was  rending  him. 

As  in  a  dream  he  was  groping  for  a  reason  for  his 
pain.  His  life  had  been  no  intricate  labyrinth.  It 
had  been  plain  and  common.  There  were  no  tangled 
threads.  Each  event  that  met  him  he  had  seen  rise 
naturally,  and  as  naturally  he  could  trace  it  to  its 
close.  If  a  grievance  had  come  to  him  from  his  first 
wife,  or  from  her  family  or  her  friends  he  would  have 
recognized  it  as  the  legitimate  sequence  of  his  own 
actions; — a  something  that  he,  having  planted,  must 
also  reap  and  garner.  But,  up  to  now,  all  that  had 
come  from  that  wr  ck  to  him  had  been  the  corroding 
memory  of  the  quarrel  and  the  parting,  and  the  un- 
reasonable jealousy  of  his  second  wife  during  the 
first  years  of  their  life  together.  This  last  had  been 
exceedingly  unpl  asant.  It  had  grown  and  flourish- 
ed until  in  its  very  exuberance  it  had  strangled  it- 
self. 

The  desert  spot  left  by  the  killing  of  this  poison- 
ous growth  he  did  not  pretend  to  deny;  he  passed  it 


266  Jasper  Fairfax. 

in  silence,  only  saying,  '  Better  that  than  the  Upas 
tree." 

Any  other  consequences  from  that  time  had  yet  to 
develop.  True,  here  was  this  Englishman  dogging 
him,  but,  that  was  nothing.  He  was  master  of  the 
situation.  He  was  glad  this  question  had  arisen  in 
his  own  life  time.  He  was  glad  too  that  it  was  a 
foreign  property  in  jeopardy;  for  in  spite  of  his  be 
lief  in  his  indifference  he  was  rather  pleased  than 
otherwise  that  Adelaide's  son  could  not  attain  to 
wealth  and  station  excepting  by  and  through  his 
sanction.  If  it  had  been  an  American  property,  his 
neutrality  in  the  business  would  have  made  no  differ 
ence  for  or  against  it.  The  high  respectability  of  the 
mother  of  the  heir  would  have  been  guaranty. 

So,  this  morning  he  sat  wondering,  still  trying  to 
find,  if  not  the  thread  that  should  lead  him  out  of  this 
maze,  at  least  the  way  by  which  he  had  come  into 
it.  The  past  lay  like  an  open  plain  in  his  memory. 
Here  and  there  was  a  hillock  marked  by  a  white 
stone,  lettered  with  the  names  of  kindred,  friend, 
comrade,  nothing  more.  Even  the  one  great  sin 
that  for  a  time  lay  upon  his  conscience  like  an  un- 
quenchable fire,  he  felt  had  been  expiated;  that  it 
was  in  revenge  Salome  had  perished,  without  a 
thought  of  sacrificing  herself.  She  had  unwittingly 
set  her  own  death-trap. 

This  present  chapter  of  his  book  of  life  seemed  to 
be  thrown  in  at  random.  It  was  parenthetic,  ac- 
cidental. It  had  no  connection  with  any  other  part 
of  the  story.  Perhaps,  even  yet,  something  would 
happen  to  prevent  it  being  bound  up  for  him  for- 
ever. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  267 

What  could  happen?  He  was  not  yet  at  the  point 
where  he  could  pray  for  death  or  disaster  for  his  child, 
but,  some  accident  might  meet — He  recalled  the 
vision  of  his  young  kinsman  across  the  sea  lying  stone 
dead  in  his  own  fields.  Hearts  of  father  and  mother 
had  broken  for  him.  Castlemere  was  a  fine  horse- 
man; but,  there  was  a  strip  of  treacherous  clay  where 
the  road  overhung  the  river  between  the  Burgoyne 
place  and  Bellaire.  If  the  half-broken  colt  that  the 
young  man  habitually  rode  should  take  it  into  his 
head  to  be  restive,  unmanagable  at  that  spot,  only 
one  thing  could  happen.  For  the  moment,  the  tor- 
tured father  wished  it  most  intensely.  He  spoke  his 
thought : 

"Ah  Cain,  your  blood  stirs  within  me;  but,  if  it  is 
done,  my  thought,  not  my  hand,  will  do  it.  The 
moral  is  in  the  wish,  the  intent;  and  my  deeds  upon 
my  head ! " 

The  door  opened  softly.  A  clerk  came  in,  and 
with  an  inquisitive  stare  laid  a  card  on  the  desk.  Fair- 
fax picked  it  up,  and,  in  his  abstraction  wondered,  for 
an  instant  if  it  was  a  mistake,  and  whose  card  should 
have  come  instead.  He  read  his  own  name: 

Jasper  Fairfax, 

Washington,  D.  C. 

He  looked  at  it  stolidly,  saying  mentally  that  he 
had  never  had  a  card  printed  with  that  address.  The 
clerk  waited,  and  when  Fairfax  laid  the  card  down 
and  looked  at  him  without  seeing  him,  he  took  it 
for  a  sign  to  go.  As  he  left  the  room,  Fairfax  only 


268  Jasper  Fairfax. 

half  conscious  that  his  thoughts  had  been  interrupted, 
turned  again  to  the  card.     Where  had  it  come  from? 

Then  a  clear  low  voice  was  saying:  "  Good 
morning  Colonel  Fairfax." 

He  looked  up,  then  rose  from  his  chair.  Was  it 
the  ghost  of  his  youth  come  to  show  him  the  point 
where  started  the  little  rill  that  led  to  this  sea  of 
trouble? 

The  eyes  that  were  on  a  level  with  his  were  his 
own.  The  face,  boyish  and  beautiful  had  looked  up 
at  him  from  the  river  on  many  a  summer  day;  had 
laughed  back  at  him  from  his  mirror  and  from 
maidens'  eyes. 

He  passed  his  hand  across  his  forehead.  He  meant 
to  speak,  but  his  misty  thought  was:  "Why  delude 
myself  further?  I'm  dreaming,  or  this  nightmare  is 
becoming  too  much  for  me." 

Then  the  clear  voice  was  heard  again : 

"  If  you  are  busy  I'll  go  away  and  call  later,  or, — 
the  day  after  to-morrow ;  any  time  you  may  appoint ;" 

So  the  ghost  would  insist  on  an  answer. 

"  No,"  Fairfax  said,  gazing  steadily  into  the  gray 
eyes,  "  I've  nothing  particular  in  hand.  State  your 
business." 

"  Perhaps  you're  not  well? "  as  the  Colonel 
languidly  indicated  a  chair  and  as  languidly  dropped 
into  his  own. 

"  Hem!  it's  a  compassionate  ghost,  but,  not  more 
so,  I  reckon  than  I  used  to  be;"  this  mentally.  Aloud 
he  said :  "  Yes,  I'm  quite  well,  thank  you.  What  can 
I  do  for  you?" 

A  frank,  pleasant  smile  kindled  in  the  eyes  of  the 
young  man,  lighting  up  his  whole  face.  Fairfax 


Jasper  Fairfax.  269 

noticed  the  dampness  on  his  dark  hair,  and  how  it 
lay  in  waves  over  his  head  and  in  rings  about  his  fore- 
head and  neck. 

"  You  can  do  me  a  great  service,  but,  will  you? 
You  have  refused  to  do  it  at  Mr.  Carleton's  solicit- 
ation. I  learn  that  he's  out  of  town  for  the  day.  There 
was  a  misunderstanding  or  delayed  letters.  He  was 
not  here  to  introduce  me.  Mr.  Cogswell  advised  me 
to  introduce  myself.  I  fancy  I'm  not  an  entire  stran- 
ger to  you." 

"  Your  fancy  misleads  you.  This  is  the  first  time 
I  ever  saw  you." 

"  Yes,  that's  true,  but,  you  knew  of  me,  and  in  the 
nature  of  the  case,  you  must  naturally  have  expected 
to  see  me  sometime.  In  fact  I'll  wager  you've 
wondered  many  times  why  I  didn't  call  upon  you." 

Fairfax  held  his  breath.  The  smile  still  lingered 
about  the  finely  cut  mouth,  there  was  a  daring  gleam 
in  the  long  gray  eyes  of  this  bold  boy.  The  Colonel 
felt  his  pulses  quickening  as  he  gazed  in  fascination 
at  his  visitor.  The  consciousness  that  here  was  a 
part  of  himself;  that  this  boy,  speaking  to  him  in 
"the  sublime  audacity  of  youth"  might  nonchalently 
raise  his  hand,  and,  instead  of  asking  a  favor  say: 

"You  sir,  are  responsible  for  my  being.  You  have 
shirked  the  duties  of  your  relationship  a  long  time. 
You  have  kept  me  out  of  my  own.  Now,  sir,  I  de- 
mand restitution;"  this  kept  him  silent. 

He  had  often  wondered  if  he  would  ever  meet  this 
unknown  son.  He  had  told  himself  that  if  he  did,  it 
would  be  the  same  as  meeting  any  other  human  crea- 
ture. Perhaps  it  might  have  been  so  if  the  resemb- 
lance had  not  been  so  marked.  Whenever  he  opened 


270  Jasper  Fairfax. 

his  lips  to  speak  he  had  an  absurd  sensation  as  of 
turning  himself  out  of  doors. 

Leisurely  he  said :  "And  do  you  suppose  your  own 
rhetoric  will  be  more  potent  than  Mr.  Carleton's 
trained  faculties?  Has  he  told  you  my  reasons  for 
refusing  to  put  my  name  to  the  instrument  that  will 
pave  the  way  for  you  to  this  English  title  and  estate?" 

"  Yes,  he  told  me.  I  had  no  reason  to  suppose 
that  I  could  induce  you  to  do,  only  what  is  right  in 
the  premises,  excepting  by  binding  myself  by  any 
form  of  bond  you  may  desire  to  claim  no  share  in  your 
own  possessions." 

I  do  not  ask  anything  of  the  kind.  I  want  no 
commerce  with  you  in  any  way.  When  your  mother 
insisted  on  absolute  divorce,  I,  through  my  lawyers, 
Cogswell  and  Jerome,  offered  her  anything  she 
might  ask.  There  was  no  mention  of  an  expected 
child;  so  no  provision  made  for  one.  After  all  these 
years,  neither  you  nor  your  mother  have  any  least 
claim  upon  me." 

"  You  have  not  been  misrepresented  to  me  by  any 
persons  concerned  in  the  separation  of  yourself  from 
my  mother.  They  are  all  truthful  people.  My 
mother  and  I  do  not  wish  to  have  any  claim  upon  you. 
Probably  by  the  terms  of  the  divorce  she  has  none; 
but,  I  have.  In  that  transaction  I  had  no  vote;  now 
I'm  old  enough  for  the  ballot,  and  I'm  going  to  say 
my  word  on  everything  that  comes  my  way.  I  also 
have  a  claim  upon  this  estate  across  the  water.  For 
my  mother's  sake,  to  make  her  life  pleasant,  I  want 
it.  For  myself,  I  can  make  my  way  as  well  as  any 
boy  that  ever  was  born.  For  my  mother,  I  do  not 


Jasper  Fairfax.  271 

hesitate  to  say  that  I  want  money  and  plenty  of  it; 
and  I'm  ready  to  make  a  big  fight  for  it." 

"  Yes,  that's  right.  I've  no  doubt  you're  a  good 
son ;  but  you  may  as  well  consider  your  fight  with  me 
as  quite  over.  You  can  move  your  forces  whenever 
you  like." 

"  Colonel  Fairfax,  looking  at  you,  I  can't  under- 
stand why  you  do  this.  You  have  the  advantage, 
but,  a  man  with  your  head  and  face  oughtn't  to  do 
a  mean  thing." 

The  fearless,  positive  tone  was  re-inforced  by  the 
steady  gaze  of  the  clear  eyes. 

"  So,  you're  a  physiognomist?  " 

"Oh  no,  but,"  there  was  a  short  laugh;  "I  can  see 
that  I  resemble  you,  very  much,  and  I  couldn't 
imagine  myself  doing  a  thing  of  this  sort." 

"  No?  At  your  age,  and  with  your  lack  of  experi- 
ence it  is  useless  to  ask  you  to  look  at  the  matter 
from  my  point  of  view." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  that  makes  some  difference." 
A  pause,  then,  "Colonel  Fairfax,  if  I  could  be  assured 
that  it  was  the  loss  of  my  mother  that  warped  you,  I 
could  forgive  you." 

Fairfax  started  visibly,  lifted  his  head  and  stared 
at  the  young  man  as  if  he  had  struck  him. 

"  Don't  tax  your  benevolence.  I  have  given  good 
and  sufficient  reasons  for  my  attitude;  reasons  that 
were  enough  for  Carleton,  and  must  suffice  for  you." 

Still  he  did  not  go,  but  sat  studying  his  father  as  if 
he  would  read  him  through  and  through.  After  a 
few  moments  of  silence,  he  spoke,  laughing  as  he  did 
so: 

"I  wonder  if  I  ever  could  do  a  thing  like  this. 


272  Jasper  Fairfax. 

Would  you  mind  telling  me  what  it  was  that  sent  you 
to  the  devil?" 

If  Colonel  Fairfax  had  been  put  upon  his  oath  he 
would  have  stated  that  he  was  never  more  surprised 
in  his  life.  He  laughed  in  spite  of  himself.  Such  a 
new  sensation  as  he  was  experiencing!  He  hardly 
knew  how  to  class  it.  This  boy  was  daring  to  the 
verge  of  insult,  and  yet,  each  time  he  spoke  his  father 
felt  a  species  of  pride  in  his  manner  of  defying  him. 
Not  one  other  person  in  the  world  had  ever  dared  to 
speak  to  him  in  this  manner,  to  even  look  at  him  as 
did  this  slender  copy  of  himself. 

"  Well  sir,  you  certainly  do  not  mean  to  be  mis- 
understood. I  begin  to  see  myself  in  a  new  light; 
and  I  confess  I'm  not  flattered." 

"  It  frequently  happens  that  truth  is  not  flattering. 
I  don't  need  to  wait  for  gray  hair  and  spectacles  to 
know  that.  You  say  that  I  do  not  mean  to  be  mis- 
understood. I  assure  you  that  I  do  not.  I  have  one 
thing  more  to  say  before  going.  You  can  consider 
it  at  your  leisure  until  I  see  you  again,  not  to-morrow 
of  course,"  and  he  continued  in  a  softer  tone  as  he 
saw  how  his  host  shrank  as  if  in  pain,  "but  sometime 
soon.  You  can  see  for  yourself  the  line  of  events 
that  have  led  up  to  this  day.  and  to  this  first  meet- 
ing between  us.  The  same  cause  that  separated  you 
from  my  mother,  rendered  you  ineligible  as  heir  to 
this  English  fortune.  By  these  causes,  I,  though  en- 
tirely passive  and  blameless,  am  left  a  pauper,  in  a 
degree  when,  by  natural  right  I  should  be  at  least 
comfortably  provided  for.  I  don't  ask  now,  though 
I  might  and  get  it,  a  share  of  Fairfax  Farms,  or  any- 
thing else  that  you  possess.  I  tell  you  honestly  that 


Jasper  Fairfax.  273 

I  don't  want  it.  I  will  put  my  name  in  a  thousand 
places  saying  the  same  thing  if  you  will  simply  put 
your  name  where  it  will  be  of  service  to  me  in  the 
other  matter." 

Colonel  Fairfax  smiled  indulgently. 

"And,  if  I  do  not  do  this,  my  young  dictator?  " 

The  young  man  arose  and  swung  his  hands  behind 
him.  His  father  watched  every  motion.  "How  well 
he  carries  himself,"  was  his  mental  comment.  His 
manner  was  calm,  his  voice  was  steady,  there  was  a 
half  smile  in  his  eyes.  He  stood  looking  at  his  father 
as  he  had  looked  when  he  first  came  in. 

"Ask  yourself,  sir  what  you  would  do; — what  any 
man  who  respects  himself  would  do.  Right  is  on 
my  side  of  the  question.  I  would  like  to  be  friendly 
with  you.  There  is  no  reason  why  we  should  not  be 
friends.  If  you  will  it  otherwise,  so  be  it;  I'll  try  to  be 
as  good  an  enemy  as  you  ever  had  in  all  your  days. 
I  am  as  good  a  Fairfax  as  you  are,  and  there  was 
never  a  beggar  amongst  us.  I  will  have  my  own  to 
the  ultimate  copper." 

Colonel  Fairfax  was  standing  too.  He  wondered 
at  the  complacent  glow  that  swept  over  him  as  the 
boy  declared  himself  a  Fairfax.  As  his  visitor 
moved  towards  the  door,  he  said: 

"  You  don't  know,  I'm  sure,  how  these  heroics  be- 
come you.  Really,  if  you  go  to  extremes  I  would  ad- 
vise you  to  plead  the  cause  for  yourself." 

"  The  cause  will  require  no  special,  at  least  no 
expert  pleading.  If  it  should,  I  know  where  to  find 
it.  The  best  legal  talent  in  Washington  is  at  my 
service,  for — my  mother's  sake." 

A  wave  of  color  swept  over  the  face  of  Colonel 


274  Jasper  Fairfax. 

Fairfax.  He  was  as  surprised  at  the  anger  he  felt  at 
the  thought  of  some  other  man  loving  his  former  wife 
as  his  son  was  to  see  the  evidence  of  that  jealousy. 
The  young  man  smiled;  he  came  near  laughing  out- 
right, and  Colonel  Fairfax  knew  that  he  had  betrayed 
himself. 

When  he  was  alone  he  walked  the  floor  with  quick 
steps.  He  was  lost  in  thought,  but,  his  musings 
were  pleasant.  "  He's  a  fine  fellow !  "  so  he  summed 
up  mentally.  "As  handsome  a  boy  as — I  ever  saw, 
and,  I  wonder  if  he'd  be  afraid  to  meet  the  devil." 
He  laughed  silently.  "  How  I  should  like  to  see  him 
and  his  mother  together!  I  can't  imagine  Adelaide 
as  mother  of  the  strapping  fellow.  They  must  have 
been  beautiful  together  when  he  was  a  little  fellow. 
And  oh  to  have  seen  him  as  a  baby!  To  have  seen 
her  ministering  to  him  in  the  sweetest,  holiest  office 
of  motherhood!  " 

He  sat  down  by  the  open  window.  It  still  rained, 
but  the  sun  was  shining,  and  his  face  lightened  with 
the  sky.  "I  was  mistaken,"  he  said  softly,  "Adelaide 
was  in  earnest.  She  did  care  for  me.  She  sacrificed 
as  much,  probably  more  for  her  principles  than  I  did 
for  mine.  Galatea  never  returned  to  her  pedestal, 
was  never  again  frozen  to  marble.  She  remained  a 
woman.  Her  thoughts,  through  lonely,  patient 
hours,  stamped  her  son  with  the  likeness  of  his 
father.  But,  why  did  she  not  tell  me?  That  is  un- 
forgivable. Such  a  difference  it  would  have  made  if 
I  had  known." 

That  evening  Colonel  Fairfax  drew  Zoe  out  on  the 
veranda,  and  walking  back  and  forth  around  the  three 
sides  of  the  house,  he  told  her  of  her  half-brother. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  .775 

She  had  heard  of  it,  she  said  a  few  days  before,  and 
had  then  asked  her  mother  about  it.  She  had  evaded 
answering,  and  upon  being  pressed,  impatiently  told 
Zoe,  that  the  subject  was  very  unpleasant;  that  she 
must  ask  Sheba,  or  Uncle  Westlake,  or  her  father. 
She  had  gone  to  Sheba.  She  knew  of  the  marriagCj 
but  nothing  of  the  boy.  So  now  she  had  the  whole 
story  and  she  saw  her  father  in  a  new  sad  light.  When 
it  was  all  finished  she  asked:  "Papa  how  does  he 
look?" 

"  Very  much  like  myself;  as  tall,  with  the  same 
eyes  and  hair,  and  I  fancy  much  of  my  manner." 

"Oh  papa,  how  I'd  like  to  see  him!  and  how  I  wish 
we  could  have  had  him  living  with  us  here." 

"  Yes,"  and  he  thought  what  a  difference  it  might 
have  made  with  this  flower-like  girl  if  she  had  had 
such  a  sturdy  clear  sighted  brother  as  a  constant  com- 
panion. Then  he  took  up  his  burden  again  to  lay  it 
down,  when? 


276  Jasper  Fairfax. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

It  was  a  great  and  pleasant  sensation  in  Bellaire. 
This  tall,  lithe  young  Fairfax  walked  the  streets  an 
exact  copy  of  his  father  twenty-five  years  ago.  He 
was  at  once  recognized  by  men  and  women  of  his 
father's  age  and  older,  and  the  hospitable  home  of 
Senator  Cogswell  was  over-flowing  with  callers. 

The  feeling  against  Adelaide  Francis  had  been  bit- 
ter and  unrelenting,  but,  what  had  this  handsome, 
gracious  boy  to  do  with  his  mother's  conduct?  The 
charm  of  youth  and  his  father's  face  and  manner  were 
all  potent.  The  mother  of  a  son  like  that  could  be 
forgiven  much.  Gray  heads  nodded  wisely.  Had 
not  this  unknown  young  Fairfax  made  his  debut  in 
the  nick  of  time?  While  the  father  was  vexed  and 
grieved  over  the  wilfulness  of  the  daughter  would  not 
the  son  stand  the  better  chance  of  recognition? 

So  thought  ex-consul  Burgoyne,  and  so  he  said  to 
Countess  Castlemere  on  the  evening  of  the  day  when 
all  Bellaire  knew  that  young  Jasper  Fairfax  had  called 
upon  his  father,  and  h- 1  left  his  private  office  looking 
satisfied,  after  a  long  conference. 

John  Burgoyne  and  his  cousin,  like  Colonel  Fair- 
fax and  his  daughter,  walked  the  veranda.  They 
talked  long  and  earnestly,  Burgoyne  at  last  half 
angrily. 

"  I  tell  you,  it  will  ruin  everything.     Why  can't  you 


Jasper  Fairfax.  277 

be  satisfied?  After  the  wedding  is  over,  let  the  young 
folks  go  as  arranged,  and  you  keep  silence  and  follow, 
them." 

"  I  wouldn't  forego  the  satisfaction  I'll  have  in 
letting  Jasper  Fairfax  know  who  I  am,  not  for  twice 
the  price  of  the  farms." 

"  Well  you'll  probably  forfeit  half  that.  The  girl 
will  either  be  disinherited  or  persuaded  to  cut  away 
from  Guido  at  once." 

"  Neither  one  will  happen.  The  girl  is  bewitched. 
She'll  follow  Guido  to  the  end  of  the  world.  As  for 
being  disinherited,  her  father  only  lives  for  her — " 

"  But  now  this  boy  has  come  to  the  front ; — " 

"  I  know  Jasper  Fairfax.  He  worshiped  Adelaide 
Francis,  long  before  he  was  free  to  marry  her.  He 
is  as  unrelenting  as  a  cobra  robbed  of  its  mate.  Ade- 
laide's son  will  never  get  a  sou  from  his  father.  My 
doll-baby  daughter-in-law  will  have  it  all,  now  re- 
member that." 

"  Well,  have  your  way,  but  mind  what  I  tell  you ; 
to-morrow  by  this  time  your  Castles  in  Spain  built 
from  the  proceeds  of  Fairfax  Farms,  will  be  tumbled 
about  your  ears." 

When  old  friends  came  seeking  Adelaide  Fairfax 
she  received  them  graciously,  but,  as  she  would  be  in 
Bellaire  for  so  short  a  time,  and,  under  such  peculiar 
circumstances,  she  begged  them  to  allow  her  to  re- 
main in  seclusion. 

When  Jasper  returned  from  his  interview  with  his 
father,  he  at  once  sought  his  mother,  and  told  her  of 
his  failure  to  win  his  point.  Then,  remembering  the 
flush  that  dyed  the  colonel's  face,  he  said: 


278  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"  But,  I'll  win  yet.  You'll  see  me  Lord  Treslyn 
very  soon,  my  lady  mother." 

"  I  hope  so,  dear,  but  Colonel  Fairfax  is  very  firm. 
You  may  know  how  firm  by  this  situation,  and  by  the 
whole  story  of  your  life." 

'  I  know  it,  but,  I'm  firm  too.  I  told  him  I  found 
myself  quite  as  good  a  Fairfax  as  himself.  If  I'm  not 
why  was  his  pattern  wasted  on  me?  " 

His  mother  laughed;  "  Yes,  you  are  as  like  him  as 
one  person  can  be  like  another." 

She  was  singularly  beautiful.  Tall,  slender,  even 
girlishly  slim,  yet  with  a  rounded  figure  every  move- 
ment of  which  was  graceful  and  charming.  Her 
heavy  golden  chestnut  hair  showed  here  and  there  a 
thread  of  silver,  but  her  deep  pansy  eye  were  full  and 
dewy,  and  her  complexion  was  like  transparent  ivory 
with  a  rose  glow  beneath.  Her's  was  the  regal  beauty 
that  swayed  men's  hearts  yet  held  them  in  check. 
Men  worshiped  her  standing  afar,  and,  while  wor- 
shipping her,  keeping  the  memory  of  her  face  shrined 
in  their  hearts  as  something  sacredly  precious,  they 
married  plainer,  commoner  women.  She  was  a 
woman  before  whom  the  average  man  wished  he 
could  forget  or  blot  out  all  his  sins.  He  felt  in- 
stinctively that  her's  was  a  great  soul  dwelling  apart 
in  its  own  pure  atmosphere. 

Vaguely  her  son  had  the  same  feeling  as,  sitting 
by  her  now,  talking  to  her  of  his  father,  occasionally 
breaking  out  mirthfull  as  he  told  how  he  had  been 
cut  short  on  all  points,  but  not  abashed.  When  he 
had  told  all  he  added : 

"  But  mama,  he's  a  magnificent  man.  It's  no 
wonder  that  Clay  Jerome  raves  about  him." 


Jasper  Fairfax.  279 

The  mother  smiled,  shaking  her  head,  repeating: 

"  You  are  as  like  he  was  at  your  age,  as  it  is  pos- 
sible for  one  person  to  be  like  another.  Don't  be 
vain." 

"  Yes,  I'm  not  a  chip  from  the  old  block,  I'm  an- 
other block  of  the  same  tree.  No  wonder  Grand- 
dad says  so  sorrowfully:  'You're  all  Fairfax;  every 
inch  of  you.'  Ha!  Ha!  " 

"Poor  father!  he's  too  old  to  outgrow  the  grief 
and  disappointment  he  felt  that  Colonel  Fairfax 
should  wear  the  gray; — " 

"  While  Grand-dad  wore  his  black  broad-cloth  till 
it  was  shabby  and  shiney,  and  vapored  about  loyalty 
and  the  Union,  and  did  nothing  else.  I  must  con- 
fess, mama,  now,  since  seeing  the  colonel,  knowing 
only  so  much  of  him  as  I've  been  told,  and  that  most- 
ly from  Grand-dad's  point  of  vision  and  opinion,  and 
what  I  found  out  to-day  by  bearding  him  in  his  den, 
I  don't  see  how  you  could  have  decided  against  him." 

"Oh  my  son!     Is  principle  nothing?" 

"  Principle  is  the  heart  of  everything  good,  but, 
politics  is  a  humbug.  It  was  simply  a  difference  of 
opinion.  Colonel  Fairfax  and  plenty  of  other  clear- 
headed men  believed  themselves  right,  just  as  much 
as  ever  Washington  did." 

"  But  dear,  they  were  wrong.  Can't  you  see  how 
wrong  they  were?  " 

"  The  wrong  was  not  of  their  making ;  and  I  tell 
you  it  must  have  been  deucedly  tough  to  be  thrashed 
for  all  the  sins  of  all  their  fore-fathers  and  have  their 
pockets  picked  besides." 

"Yes,  but  wrong  must  be  atoned  for  some  time, 


280  Jasper  Fairfax. 

It  may  seem  to  be  forgotten,  but  it  isn't.  Each  sin 
bears  its  own  punishment  within  itself." 

"  Yes,  you've  shown  me  that  in  so  many  instances 
I  haven't  the  least  speck  of  comfort  in  the  most 
juvenile  kind  of  a  lark.  I  always  think,  now  mama 
will  look  right  through  me  and  read  it  all,  as  soon  as 
I  get  home.  Then  look  out  for  Nemesis." 

How  happily  her  laugh  rang  out  as  she  leaned  over 
and  kissed  the  tanned  cheek. 

"  But,"  he  continued,  "  I  tell  you  mama,  you  were 
a  deal  more  of  a  patriot  and  a  philosopher  than  you 
were  a  woman,  or  you'd  have  followed  Colonel  Fair- 
fax through  Hades  and  all." 

"  Jasper!  "  and  the  slender  hands  were  lifted  in  ex- 
postulation; but  the  boy  laughed  in  her  face,  caught 
the  hands  and  held  them  firmly,  saying,  while  a  reck- 
less light  danced  in  his  eyes: 

"One  of  these  days  when  you  have  a  daughter-in- 
law,  she'll  stand  by  Fairfax,  right  or  wrong.  I'll  have 
no  star-spangled  goddess  of  Liberty  for  my — Lady 
Treslyn." 

"  Take  care,"  and  she  held  one  of  his  brown  hands 
in  both  her  own,  "  Remember  whom  you  are  dealing 
with  for  permission  to  grasp  this  title,  even  for  your- 
self. Your  father  is  very  stubborn." 

"  So  is  my  father's  son  very  stubborn ;  and,  if  your 
son's  father  doesn't  listen  to  reason  he'll  find  himself 
thrashed  out,  slick  and  clean.  I'll  do  the  job  much 
more  thoroughly  than  the  Federal  troops  did  it." 

"  Dear,  I  wouldn't  for  the  world  go  into  litigation." 

"  No,  you'd  go  into  the  poor-house  for  principle. 
We  Fairfaxs  don't  do  that  way.  I'll  fight  for  my 


Jasper  Fairfax.  281 

English  millions  as  hard  as — Dad  fought  for  his 
darkies." 

"  But  it  would  be  unbearable  to  go  into  court  and 
have  the  whole  story  talked  about,  and  even  publish- 
ed." 

"  It'll  never  reach  that  point.  I  don't  believe  Col- 
onel Fairfax  would  like  litigation  any  better  than  you 
would.  He'll  compromise  rather  than  allow  me  to 
drag  the  whole  business  into  court,  especially  when 
he  knows  of  the  legal  talent  that  I  can  muster;"  and 
Jasper  looked  at  his  mother  quizzically.  "  I  gave  him 
a  small  hint  that  way." 

"And  then  what?"  and  Mrs.  Fairfax  laughed 
softly. 

Jasper  smiled,  remembering:  "I  think  it  moved 
him  slightly.  He  said  nothing,  did  nothing  that 
could  be  told,  but,  I  had  a  flitting  glimpse  of  the  true 
inwardness  of  my  gentleman  father's  soul.  It's  all 
right,  and  I  like  him  immensely!  I  must  go  and 
brush  up  for  dinner.  Oh,  I  say,  mama,  isn't  Fanny 
Jerome  a  darling?  Don't  you  think  she  begins  to 
look  like  Lady  Treslyn?  " 

"Oh  you  silly  boy!  Go  brush  your  hair  and  put 
on  a  clean  collar! "  and  she  playfully  put  him  out  of 
the  room. 

Down  the  hall  she  heard  him  singing  at  his  toilet 
snatches  of  a  popular  song  as  if  he  only  remembered 
a  line  here  and  there.  It  was  a  song  of  blighted  af- 
fections with  the  refrain : 

"  I  knew  that  he  had  not  forgotten 
By  the  flush  that  swept  over  his  face." 


282  Jasper  Fairfax. 

There  was  a  bar  or  two  in  a  strong  soprano,  then 
the  voice  soared  away  in  a  tenor  as  clear  as  a  bugle 
call;  then  a  musical  whistle  carried  the  air  with  many 
trills  and  quavers  over  a  verse,  when  the  voice  softly 
repeated : 

"  I  knew  that  he  had  not  forgotten 
By  the  flush  that  swept  over  his  face." 


Jasper  Fairfax.  283 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

"  Happy  is  de  bride  dat  de  sun  shines  on,  Mas' 
Jaspa.  See  de  rain's  all  done  gone  f'om  de  bride's 
day." 

Sheba  was  hobbling  through  the  halls  very  early 
that  morning.  She  was  well  nigh  helpless  with 
rheumatism  and,  though  long  ago  she  had  been  forc- 
ed to  delegate  her  powers,  she  was  still  the  reigning 
housekeeper.  Now  that  the  great  event  of  the  wed- 
ding of  the  sole  daughter  of  the  house  was  on  hand 
she  was  up  and  stirring  to  see  that  everything  was  in 
order.  She  met  her  master  near  the  door  of  her  own 
room,  and,  knowing  that  he  was  troubled  almost  be- 
yond endurance,  she  would  offer  one  little  crumb  of 
comfort.  She  could  not  let  him  pass  without  the 
kindly  hopeful  word. 

He  sighed  and  his  sigh  was  painful.  His  bosom 
was  sore  with  the  heaviness  within. 

"Oh,  I  hope,  Mammy,  that  our  little  girl  will  be  hap- 
py, but,  I'm  afraid,  I'm  sorely  afraid." 

"  Well  Mas'  Jaspa,  yo  done  said  all  yo'  kin  say 
Yo  des  got  to  leab  it  wid  de  good  Lawd.  He 
neba  makes  no  mistakes  like  weuns  does.  Now 
honey,  hyah  comes  dat  gal  wid  my  coffee.  Come  in 
an'  set  wid  me;  an'  yo'  Jen,  g'long  back  tote  a  cup 
hyah  fo'  Mas'  aspa 

His  old  nurse  could  have  wept  to  see  the  pallid 
pinched  look  in  her  master's  face,  the  white  that  had 
come  into  his  hair  within  the  last  few  weeks.  She 


284  Jasper  Fairfax. 

did  not  know  that  all  night  long  he  had  wandered  up 
and  down  the  place.  She  did  not  know  that  he  had 
stolen  into  his  daughter's  sleeping  room,  and  there 
gazing  down  upon  her  fair  face  had  felt  himself  pos- 
sessed of  the  soul  of  Virginius.  She  could  not  have 
realized  how,  in  his  agony  he  was  not  horrified  at  the 
thought,  nor  that  he  was  only  deterred  by  the  fear  that 
his  hand  might  not  be  sure,  that  the  dear  eyes  might 
open,  and,  misunderstanding  the  kindness  of  his  act- 
ion should  haunt  him  forever  with  their  reproach. 

All  night  long  he  had  striven  for  the  clue  to  this 
thing  that  had  come  upon  him.  Why  had  he  been 
rendered  powerless  before  this  foreign  stripling? 
When  he  blamed  Guido's  mother  for  wielding  her  in- 
sinuating influence  and  fascinating  Zoe,  then  he 
blamed  himself  also  for  not  knowing  her  better,  for  not 
seeing  more  of  her;  for  not  more  openly  measuring 
her  strength  with  his  own.  And  yet,  had  not  the  last 
five  months,  ever  since  the  Castlemere's  came,  been 
filled  with  a  continuous  series  of  efforts  against  them? 
The  failing  health  of  his  wife  had  been  the  great  de- 
terrent. Her  weakness  held  all  his  strength,  all  his 
will,  all  his  conjugal  and  paternal  authority  at  bay. 

One  thing  he  might  have  done  to  some  purpose, 
but,  when  this  one  thing  had  seemed  to  evade  him,  he 
was  well  satisfied  to  let  it  alone:  That  was,  to  have 
forced  the  Countess  Castlemere  to  accept  his  society. 
She  had  been  within  his  own  doors,  many  times,  but 
with  the  exception  of  two  or  three  of  these  times,  al- 
ways in  his  absence.  When  he  knew  that  on  social 
occasions  she  had  avoided  him,  he  experienced  a  sen- 
sation of  relief.  Now  he  thought  that  possibly,  after 
the  first  meeting  he  had  not  been  cordial,  and  a 


Jasper  Fairfax.  285 

woman  accustomed  as  she  was  to  unbounded  adul- 
ation could  not  brook  that  one  man  she  met  should 
fail  in  homage.  Perhaps  her  reserve,  took  color  from 
his  own,  and  through  pique  ran  into  extremest  avoid- 
ance. 

Zoe's  mind  had  for  years  been  filled  with  stories  of 
Guido  and  his  mother.  Their  coming,  their 
striking  appearance,  their  apparent  wealth,  their  man- 
ners, and  more  than  all  their  adroit  flatteries  had 
been  like  a  fulfillment  of  all  her  girlish  dreams.  There 
was  nothing  in  any  of  the  romances  she  had  ever  read 
more  charming  than  this  beautiful  boy  and  his  wor- 
ship of  herself.  He  was  the  fairy  prince  who  would 
crown  her  queen  of  his  heart,  so,  what  was  all  the 
world  beside? 

Now,  very  soon,  Colonel  Fairfax  thought,  it  would 
all  be  over.  He  could  see  nothing  beyond  this  day, 
beyond  the  question,  "Who  gives  this  woman  to  this 
man?  " 

Still,  when  thought  and  life  grew  most  grievous, 
with  a  strange  insistence,  breaking  into  his  heavy 
wretchedness  and  scattering  the  clouds  for  an  instant, 
ever  since  the  close  of  that  interview  of  the  day  be- 
fore, there  came  the  fine,  frank  face  of  the  boy  who 
bore  his  own  name.  In  spite  of  himself  when  this 
young  face  broke  upon  his  thoughts  his  burden  was 
lifted.  When  his  heart  was  heaviest,  when  he  felt 
that  he  must  raise  his  voice  and  shout  his  sorrow  to 
the  world,  then  close  to  his  own  came  the  face  with 
full  clear  gray  eyes  drowned  in  laughing  light;  a  non- 
chalent  smile  curved  the  handsome  mouth,  and  a 
fearless,  daring  speech  mocked  at  grief  and  pain. 

Until  this  morning  Colonel  Fairfax  had  hoped  for 


286  Jasper  Fairfax. 

a  respite.  Something  would  intervene  to  save  his 
child.  But,  the  hurried  preparations  were  all  com- 
plete, the  house  was  full  of  guests.  Doctor  Ballan- 
tyne,  bent  and  old  had  come  to  unite  the  child  whose 
grandfather  had  been  his  friend  to, — he  knew  not 
whom. 

Fairfax  had  said  to  him,  "  Make  the  ceremony  as 
short  as  may  be.  I  cannot  bear  much  more." 

The  old  man,  knowing  well  the  strong  nature  of 
his  friend,  knowing  the  reason  of  his  opposition  to  this 
marriage,  knowing  all  that  had  been  brought  to  bear 
to  accomplish  it,  felt  that  Jasper  Fairfax  was  suffer- 
ing with  all  the  strength  of  mind,  soul  and  body,  so 
must  be  nigh  unto  death. 

And  now,  as  in  a  dream,  with  a  heavy,  whirring 
sound  in  his  brain,  with  feet  of  lead  and  hands  of  ice, 
he  was  leading  a  white-robed  clinging  figure  down 
the  stairs,  across  the  hall,  into  the  long  drawing  room 
where  the  dark  bridegroom  awaited  her.  Blindly  he 
responded  to  the  one  question,  placing  the  hand  of 
his  child  in  that  of  the  priest.  In  that  act  he  felt  that 
he  relinquished  his  daughter,  but,  he  cast  down  his 
eyes.  He  would  not  look  upon  the  transfer  of  that 
helpless  little  hand  from  the  protection  of  the  church 
to  that  of  the  bridegroom. 

The  gruesome  thought  came  that  this  was  more 
than  he  might  have  felt  had  he  stood  beside  the  pit 
and  listened  to  the  earth  being  shoveled  in  to  hide  the 
dear  one  lying  there.  That,  beside  this  would  have 
been  a  tender  grief,  a  sacred  memory. 

He  heard  the  remainder  of  the  ceremony  as  if  it 
came  from  far  away.  It  was  nearly  over.  All  was 
black  before  him.  Would  he  faint?  Close  to  his 


Jasper  Fairfax.  287 

own  came  that  boyish  face  again.  Again  that  fear- 
less scrutiny,  that  measuring  of  his  soul  as  it  showed 
itself,  with  what  it  should  have  been.  Again  that 
laughing  impertinence;  "I  wonder  what  ever  hap- 
pened to  you  that  sent  you  to  the  devil." 

Ah  that  was  the  question  that  puzzled  him  as  well 
as  the  boy.  If  he  could  only  ravel  this  web  that  en- 
tangled him,  if  he  could  only  discover  the  beginning 
of  this  most  hateful  day,  he  thought  he  could  bear  it 
in  better  spirit. 

There  was  but  little  time  to  spare  after  the  cere- 
mony was  over.  The  master  of  the  house  had  so 
willed  it.  He  would  bear  what  was  forced  upon  him, 
what  was  essential  to  fill  the  demands  of  the  law  and 
the  church,  but  nothing  more.  He  would  tolerate 
no  avoidable  festivity. 

When  the  bride,  attired  for  her  going  away  clung 
to  her  father  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  and  besought 
him  to  go  down  with  her,  to  put  her  in  the  carriage, 
to  hold  her  hand  in  his  till  the  very  last,  he  whispered 
"No,  darling:  it  is  the  last  here  and  now.  Good- 
bye daughter.  Whatever  happens,  don't  forget  that 
I  love  you  more  than  anything  else  in  the  world.  If 
you  are  happy,  assure  me  of  it.  If  you  are  disap- 
pointed, if,  for  any  reason  under  the  sun  you  want  to 
come  back  to  me,  tell  me  so.  You'll  always  keep  a 
place  in  your  heart  for  me,  darling?  " 

"Oh  yes,  papa!  " 

He  kissed  her  hair,  her  eyes,  her  hands,  he  held 
her  close  and  stared  at  her  dumbly,  and  when  Fanny 
Jerome,  sobbing  pitiously,  and  vowing  in  her  heart 
she'd  never  leave  her  own  father,  never,  said,  "Oh 


288  Jasper  Fairfax. 

Colonel,  she  must  go  or  they'll  miss  the  train,"  he 
released  her. 

He  remained  shut  within  his  own  sleeping  room 
until  the  roll  of  wheels  on  the  drive  had  ceased  and 
the  house  was  quiet  save  for  the  usual  familiar  sounds. 
Then,  rousing  himself,  he  thought  he  would  call 
Prax,  order  Flash  to  be  brought  round,  and  he  would 
gallop  away  to  some  nook  by  the  river  and  pass  the 
remainder  of  the  day  in  solitude.  But,  for  some  un- 
accountable reason,  there  came  no  answer  to  the  re- 
peated ringing  of  the  bell.  Possibly  the  wire  was 
disabled.  There  was  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  go 
down.  Not  a  servant  was  to  be  seen  in  the  halls, 
but  when  he  reached  the  drawing-room  floor,  there, 
in  a  cozy  group  sat  the  Burgoynes,  husband  and  wife, 
Countess  Castlemere  and  Mrs.  Fairfax. 

The  Burgoyne  carriage  stood  where  it  had  been 
placed  on  their  arrival.  The  coming  in  of  the  master 
of  the  house  was  a  disturbing  influence  to  the  group. 
Each  member  of  it  moved  uneasily  as  people  do  when 
they  suspect  they  are  intruding. 

Fairfax  allowed  no  awkward  silence.  He  introduced 
his  own  affairs  by  asking  his  wife  if  she  had  the 
least  idea  where  Prax  had  bestowed  himself,  and  what 
ailed  that  one  particular  bell. 

She  knew  nothing  of  Prax  but  she  knew  that  the 
bell  had  been  crippled  a  day  or  two  ago,  and  there  had 
been  no  time  to  have  it  repaired. 

Then  Mrs.  Burgoyne  said  they  must  go,  and  the 
party  arose.  Countess  Castlemere  said: 

"  Cousin  John,  as  I  go  away  to-morrow  so  as  to 
join  the  children  on  the  steamer  next  day,  this  will  be 
my  last  opportunity  of  seeing,  once  more,  that  de- 


Jasper  Fairfax.  289 

lightful  ruin  at  the  other  end  of  the  beeches.  I'll 
walk  down,  and  you  can  pick  me  up  as  you  come  that 
way." 

"  But  why  not  ride  down,  and  go  in  at  the  front 
gate,  and  indulge  your  fancy?  " 

"  The  view  is  not  so  good  that  way.  You  come 
upon  it  too  suddenly.  I  must  have  my  way.  You 
take  your  own  time  for  driving  down." 

Mrs.  Fairfax  made  a  feint  of  saying  she  too  would 
walk  to  the  ruin,  but,  she  sighed  and  leaned  on  the 
back  of  a  chair  looking  unutterably  fragile  and 
weary.  She  turned  toward  her  husband.  This  was 
such  a  little  thing,  and  yet  she  would  not  ask  him  to 
doit. 

His  heart  smote  him.  He  had  not  been  kind  to 
her  lately.  Her  eyes  were  heavy,  perhaps  with  weari- 
ness, perhaps  with  pain,  perhaps  with  secret  tears. 

He  could  do  no  less  than  offer  to  walk  with  the 
Countess  to  t  his  interesting  spot  on  his  own  premises. 
He  thought  she  was  already  assuming  airs  of  owner- 
ship and  trying  to  make  them  unobtrusive.  She  said 
how  delighted  she  would  be,  and  yet,  she  did  not  wish 
to  be  troublesome  in  the  gratification  of  a  whim. 

Colonel  Fairfax  coldly,  and  ceremoniously  assured 
her  that  it  would  be  a  pleasure  to  walk  with  her.  Bur- 
goyne,  as  was  frequently  his  fancy  had  driven  his 
team  himself.  Fairfax  had  many  times  remarked: 
"That's  the  nigger  of  it." 

Mrs.  Fairfax  sank  into  a  chair  as  her  husband  and 
the  countess  started  down  the  walk,  and  Burgoyne 
and  his  wife  still  lingered. 

"Shall  we  not  go?"  Mrs.  Burgoyne  asked,  and 


290  Jasper  Fairfax. 

Mrs.  Fairfax  thought  she  was  curiously  nervous  and 
flurried  in  her  manner. 

"  No  hurry,"  Burgoyne  answered.  "  It's  quite  a 
walk  to  the  ruin,  and  Sally's  a  great  talker.  She'll 
have  to  hear  the  whole  story  over  again." 

While  they  waited  and  the  horses  stamped  and  im- 
patiently threw  up  their  heads  and  champed  their 
bits,  Colonel  Fairfax  was  dragging  out  the  last  hour 
of  his  endurance  of  the  society  of  the  Countess  Castle- 
mere. 

As  the  Burgoynes  were  about  to  go,  Westlake  re- 
turqed  from  seeing  the  bridal  party  off.  His  sister 
exclaimed  on  seeing  him: 

"Oh  George!  I'm  so  glad  you've  come  back.  I 
was  afraid  you  meant  to  stay  in  your  office  for  the 
remainder  of  the  day." 

"  In  these  regimentals? "  glancing  at  his  broad- 
cloth. "  I  ought  to  have  disappeared  as  did  the 
bride  and  groom,  put  on  my  business  suit,  and  then 
I  could  have  utilized  the  afternoon." 

"  I'm  glad  you  didn't.     I  don't  want  to  be  alone." 

"  Better  invite  the  colonel  to  stay  at  home  for  a 
quiet  visit.  Where  is  he?" 

"  Gone  to  the  ruin  with  the  countess." 

Westlake  could  see  that  his  sister  was  immeasur- 
ably sad  in  spite  of  her  gratified  ambition  in  the  fact 
that  Zoe  had  married  a  title.  Now  that  the  daughter 
was  gone,  the  husband  and  wife  would  realize  how 
far  apart  they  had  drifted.  In  as  much  as  he  was 
capable  of  pity,  Westlake  was  sorry  for  both.  With 
all  his  soul  he  congratulated  himself  that  if  he  only 
possessed  single  blessedness,  he  was  totally  exempt 
from  the  entanglement  of  multiplied  misery. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  291 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

These  two  who  walked  amongst  the  shadows  cast 
by  the  interlacing  boughs  of  the  beeches  had  nothing 
to  say  about  the  event  of  the  morning.  The  new 
leaves  were  odorous  in  the  sunshine  and  they  rustled 
like  little  waves  in  the  warm  air. 

The  conversation  of  Colonel  Fairfax  with  his  hand- 
some guest,  though  without  embarrassing  pause,  yet 
had  no  element  of  geniality  in  it. 

The  countess  said  she  hoped  sometime  to  make  her 
home  in  her  father's  land;  that  she  would  like  a  fine 
old  place  like  this  for  her  own.  Fairfax  registered 
a  mental  vow  that  she  should  never  live  on  the  farms 
until  his  head  was  cold.  But,  she  continued,  she 
feared  her  son  would  never  become  Americanized. 
Fairfax  did  not  say,  as,  in  the  role  of  a  pleased 
father-in-law  he  would  have  said,  that  he  hoped  his 
son-in-law  might  be  induced  to  live  in  America,  even 
in  Kentucky,  even  in  his  own  house.  He  wondered 
if  the  countess  was  expecting  him  to  say  something 
of  this  kind. 

Instead,  he  said  he  thought  it  very  strange  that  she 
felt  any  desire  to  return  to  the  newness  of  America 
after  so  many  years,  certainly  half  the  years  of  her 
life  spent  in  the  historic  cities  of  the  Old  World. 

"Ah!  "  and  the  Countess  sighed  as  she  leaned  her 
folded  arms  on  the  window  seat  of  what  had  been  the 
drawing  room.  "There  has  never  been  anything  in 


292  Jasper  Fairfax. 

any  of  the  cities  where  we  lived  that  could  take  the 
place  of  the  old  house,  the  house  where  I  was — where 
I  lived  in  my  girlhood.  I  was  born  on  the  other 
side." 

"Ah  indeed!  I  supposed  you  were  American  born." 

"  No,  my  parents  were  American,  but  were  in 
Europe  for  a  long  visit.  I  was  brought  home  before 
I  was  old  enough  to  remember  it.  Seems  to  me  I 
would  like  to  rebuild  a  place  like  this,  with  all  its 
memories  and  its  romance  and  ghosts  stories,  and 
make  a  home  of  it." 

"  This  will  never  be  rebuilt  with  my  sanction.  The 
tragedy  connected  with  the  place  was  of  such  a  ter- 
rible nature,  the  ruin  must  stand,  a  monument  to  the 
sins  of  the  two  races." 

"  Did  you  ever  institute  systematic  inquiries?  or 
employ  detectives  in  the  case?  " 

"  No,  I  never  could  see  the  necessity  of  that;  and 
the  war  coming  on  almost  immediately  there  were 
other  things  to  think  of." 

"  Seems  to  me  it's  strange  you  never  had  the  least 
trace  of  'the  girl  known  as  Salome.' " 

Fairfax  started  and  turned  upon  the  countess.  The 
very  words  of  his  aunt's  will.  The  countess  was  ab- 
sently gazing  before  her. 

"  But  haven't  you  been  told?  my  men  took  the 
charred  remains  of  the  girl  and  Victor,  Dr.  Red- 
field's  valet  out  of  the  ruins." 

"Oh  yes,  I've  been  told,  and  I've  been  to  the 
cemetery  and  seen  the  graves  of  the  two." 

She  paused,  and  Fairfax  watching  her  face  saw 
that  she  was  smiling.  What  a  strange,  half  barbaric 
creature  was  this  with  her  voluptuous  beauty,  her 


Jasper  Fairfax.  293 

profusion  of  ornament  and  her  foreign  accent.  After 
a  little  she  spoke. 

"  But  I've  been  told  that  the  girl  possessed  a 
quantity  of  valuable  jewels.  What  could  have  be- 
come of  them?" 

"  We  never  knew.  My  own  theory  was  that  they 
had  been  hidden  in  some  easily  accessible  place,  and 
the  accident  to  the  powder  in  the  strong  room  pre- 
vented their  removal.  According  to  that  theory,  the 
valuables  may  be  discovered,  some  time,  by  chance." 

"  Colonel  Fairfax ;  it  seems  to  me  that  you  were 
easily  satisfied.  Were  you  sure  that  the  skeletons 
found  there  in  that  corner  were  really  the  remains  of 
Victor  and — the  girl  known  as  Salome?" 

Again  that  sentence. 

"  Why,  whose  else  could  they  have  been?  None  of 
the  slaves  were  missing,  and  Dr.  Redfield  was 
not  in  the  habit  of  secreting  cadavers  like  a  student." 

"  No,  but,  doctors  very  frequently  keep  many 
ghastly  souvenirs  of  their  student  days,  and — " 

Fairfax  started  as  if  electrified.  The  countess  had 
entirely  dropped  her  foreign  accent.  She  stood 
laughing  in  his  face.  She  raised  her  right  hand,  the 
lace  fell  away  from  her  arm  and  there  gleamed  a 
bracelet  that  he  had  had  made  for  Salome. 

She  touched  it,  a  spring  clicked  softly,  a  golden  lid 
lifted,  his  own  face,  painted  on  ivory  lay  within. 

He  seized  her  arm  savagely. 

"What  trick  is  this?  How  did  you  come  by  that 
bracelet?  " 

"  You  gave  it  me,  master,  when  you  were  my 
lover,  almost  my  husband;"  and  a  mocking  laugh 


294  Jasper  Fairfax. 

rang  out  while  she  winced  with  the  pain  of  his  grasp 
on  her  arm. 

Like  the  shifting  figures  of  a  kaleidoscope  he  saw 
it  all.  He  remembered  what  he  had  not  thought  of 
in  the  years  counted  as  the  half  of  a  long  life,  the  two 
skeletons  that  Doctor  Redfield  had  been  forced  to 
hide  out  of  sight  "making  believe"  they  had  been 
sent  away  and  buried  because  of  the  superstitious 
fears  of  the  slaves.  Often  when  he  and  Salome  were 
children  they  had  followed  the  doctor  to  the  under- 
ground part  of  the  house,  and  trembling  in  their  de- 
lightful horror  they  had  insisted  upon  being  shown 
the  two  ghastly  things  in  their  secret  place  near  the 
strong  room.  They  were  told  that  one  was  a  man, 
the  other  a  woman,  and  Salome's  father  actually  used 
them,  to  illustrate  a  few  private  lessons  in  physiology 
that  he  gave  the  children.  Strange,  Fairfax  thought) 
now,  that  he  had  so  entirely  forgotten  them,  and  as 
he  loosed  his  hold  on  Salome's  arm,  he  laughed. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  even  now,  I  feel  relieved  that  you 
did  not  perish  in  the  fire,  though  this  discovery  con- 
firms my  first  impression  of  the  mixed  origin  of  your 
son, — if  he  is  your  son?  " 

"Oh  he's  my  son,"  and  she  laughed  and  clasped 
her  hands.  "This  day  finishes  more  than  my  most 
extravagant  dreams  dared  to  bid  me  hope  on  that 
other  day  when  you  made  me  your  generous  offer 
here  in  this  room,  instead  of  marriage.  Then,  I 
vowed,  in  some  way  to  avenge  myself.  How,  I  did 
not  know.  Then  I  could  think  of  nothing  but  burn- 
ing your  houses  or  killing  you.  I  would  have  killed 
you,  but  I  wanted  you  to  suffer.  If  we  had  thought 
of  it  in  time  and  divided  the  powder  we'd  have  made 


Jasper  Fairfax.  295 

another  bonfire  of  the  other  house  while  all  the 
slaves  were  gathered  about  this  one.  But,  it  is  better 
as  it  is.  Yonder  substantial  mansion  will  be  the  home 
of  my  Guido  after  you  and  I  are  gone  and  the  frail 
little  Zoe  too  has  followed  the  way  that  Marcia  speeds 
so  rapidly." 

Fairfax  stared  at  her  in  silence.  She  spoke  now  in 
the  low,  sweet  voice  he  had  known  long  ago.  She 
gazed  all  about  her  as  if  her  eyes  had  hungered  for 
a  glimpse  of  her  home;  and  as  if  she  could  not  fully 
enjoy  it  while  she  disguised  her  voice  and  her  speech. 
While  he  listened  he  felt  his  brain  refreshed,  his 
burden  lifted.  The  puzzle  that  had  vexed  his  soul 
was  explained,  the  mists  were  rolling  away.  He  had 
found  the  thread  that  led  him  into  this  maze,  a  shame- 
ful, scarlet  one,  but  there  was  another  within  his  grasp, 
a  silken  and  white  one  that  would  most  surely  lead 
him  out  of  it. 

"  So,"  he  said  as  Salome  paused,  "you  married  al- 
most immediately  after  leaving  this  place?" 

"  Married!     Who  said  I  was  married?  " 

He  gazed  at  her  in  silence  as  she  stood  laughing. 

"  Why  did  you  suppose  I  had  been  married?  " 

"  I  most  naturally  supposed  that  you  were  protect- 
ed by  the  law  in  your  motherhood." 

"  Why  should  I  care  for  the  law?  Who  of  my 
relations  was  ever  married  before  '63?  " 

"  How  do  you  come  by  your  title?  " 

"  How  innocent  and  honest!  "  and  she  laughed  im- 
moderately. "  What  right  had  I  to  any  name?  What 
might  I  not  call  myself?  " 

"And,  your  son,  of  course  has  no  name?  " 

"  No  more  than  has  your  Prax  or  Tim,  or  any  of 


296  Jasper  Fairfax. 

them.  Oh  dear,  oh  dear,  how  scared  Tim  was  when 
he  saw  Victor  and  me  in  the  graveyard!  John  had 
written  me  how  we  had  been  given  Christian  burial, 
and  I  could'nt  wait  until  I  could  go  by  day-light  to 
see  the  graves.  I  had  more  curiosity  to  see  them  than 
I  had  for  you  and  Marcia.  How  queer  that  you  and 
she  should  have  married!  " 

"  Does  your  son  know  your  history,  and  his  own?" 

"  Certainly  he  does.  I've  never  deceived  him  for 
a  minute  since  he's  been  old  enough  to  understand." 

"  What  do  you  call  yourselves  on  the  other  side?  " 

"  The  same  as  we  call  ourselves  here.  Of  course 
the  Simon-Pure  aristocracy  know  we  are  spurious, 
but,  we  have  to  be  somebody.  Old  Luke  Bedell  pro- 
vided handsomely  both  for  me  and  the  boy,  but,  he 
was  like  you;  he  didn't  care  to  marry  me." 

"Old  Luke  Bedell,  of  Washington,  the  disreput- 
able politician,  the  trickster  at  gambling,  the  rake? 
Is  he  the  father  of  your  illegitimate  son?  " 

She  lifted  her  right  hand  as  if  being  sworn  but  an- 
swered nothing  but  a  shout  of  laughter. 

"And  that  boy  is  the  husband  of  my  daughter! " 

"  That  winds  up  the  statement  of  the  case  most 
satisfactorily,"  and  she  pressed  her  handkerchief  to 
her  eyes. 

"  Was  this  way  of  life  that  you  chose  deliberately 
so  much  better  than  what  I  offered  you,  to  be  ac- 
cepted at  your  pleasure?  " 

"  In  that  time  there  was  neither  better  nor  worse 
in  anything.  There  was  no  good  anywhere  in  all  the 
world.  I  did  evil  for  the  purely  malicious  joy  it  gave 
me.  I  delighted  in  the  degradation  of  myself  be- 
cause I  hoped  ypu  would  know  of  it,  and  break  your 


Jasper  Fairfax.     ,  297 

heart  over  it.  I  never  dreamed  of  you  being  misled 
by  the  bones  of  those  unknown  paupers  who  had  been 
the  jest  of  a  herd  of  lawless  students  before  I  was 
born." 

There  was  a  quaver  in  her  voice  for  the  first  time, 
and  she  shot  a  quick  angry  glance  at  her  host. 

Fairfax  laughed  softly.  A  few  hours  ago  he  did 
not  believe  he  would  ever  laugh  again.  Now,  worse 
than  he  ever  dreamed  had  befallen  Zoe.  The  reality 
was  so  deeply  base,  so  filthily  fraudulent,  the  way  out 
of  it  for  her  was  plain. 

"  So  we  were  both  mistaken,"  he  said.  "I  would 
rather  have  my  mistake  than  yours.  I  am  glad  to 
know  the  truth.  Knowing,  I  can  go  ahead  with  con- 
fidence. But,  why  do  you  deliberately  run  your  head 
into  this  noose?  Why  have  you  told  me  all  this?  " 

"  What  would  I  care  to  have  accomplished  all  that 
I  have  if  I  left  you  to  suppose  Zoe  had  married  a 
legitimately  begotten  man,  and  a  title,  no  matter  how 
much  you  might  dislike  my  handsome  Guido.  I 
wanted  you  to  know  who  will  be  master  of  Fairfax 
Farms.  John  opposed  me;  he  wanted  me  to  go  in 
silence  but,  I  couldn't  bear  to." 

She  leaned  against  the  stone-wall  and  opened  her 
lace  parasol  with  its  amber  lining.  It  cast  a  glow 
over  her  face  and  her  white  hair.  Fairfax  very  plain- 
ly saw  the  young  Salome  in  this  older,  larger  woman. 

"  So? "  interrogatively  smiling,  "Who  is  John? 
Where  did  he  live?  Is  he  really  your  cousin?  " 

"  Yes,  he's  my  cousin.  He's  Victor's  son.  They 
belonged  to  the  Burgoynes  of  New  Orleans. 
Jocasta,  my  mother  was  Victor's  sister,  you  remem- 
ber. John  had  a  chance  to  fill  his  pockets  from  the 


298  Jasper  Fairfax. 

Burgoyne  safe  before  taking  leave  of  them."  She 
was  again  laughing. 

"Thievery,  incendiarism,  bastardy;"  Fairfax  said 
quietly.  "A  fine  alliance  truly  for  my  dainty  daugh- 
ter. Does  Mrs.  Burgoyne  know  of  John's  origin? " 

"  Yes.  Her  people  were  reformers.  They  lectured 
on  the  equality  of  the  races.  When  she  practiced 
what  they  preached  they  disowned  and  disinherited 
her.  Now,  she  lives  in  constant  fear  of  being  found 
out  the  wife  of  a  nameless  ex-slave." 

"  I  think  you'd  better  go.  They  are  waiting  for 
you  at  the  gate." 

"  You're  not  raging  as  I  expected  to  see  you.  You 
don't  care  for  Marcia's  child?  " 

"  Why  should  I  rage?  I've  been  groping  in  the 
dark  ever  since  you  came.  I  thank  you  for  en- 
lightening me.  You  shall  see  how  much  I  care  for 
Marcia's  child.  Of  one  thing  be  certain:  Luke  Be- 
dell's son,  and  yours  will  never  be  master  of  Fairfax 
Farms." 

"  How  will  you  prevent  it?  " 

"  You  will  probably  learn  before  you  leave  Bel- 
laire.  You  have  reckoned  in  this  matter  without — 
the  son  of  your  host." 

"Adelaide's  son!  After  the  way  she  discarded 
you!" 

"A  bitter  dose  I  grant  you;  but,  we're  all  white 
folks,  and  Adelaide  was  my  wife." 

They  had  reached  the  gate.  Burgoyne  called 
pleasantly,  though  there  was  a  quaver  in  his  voice: 

"  Did  you  have  a  pleasant  walk  and  talk?  " 

Salome  was  gazing  on  the  ground.  Was  it  pos- 
sible that  this,  for  what  she  had  schemed  would  fail 


Jasper  Fairfax.  299 

at  last?  Fairfax  answered:  "Sorry  to  have  kept  you 
waiting  John.  Salome  and  I  had  so  many  things  to 
talk  about.  Pity  she  didn't  disclose  her  identity 
sooner." 

He  threw  his  hands  behind  him;  he  did  not  offer 
to  assist  his  guest  into  her  carriage. 

Burgoyne's  face  paled  under  the  thick  yellow  skin. 
When  he  first  saw  the  two  they  were  so  quiet  in  their 
manners,  he  told  his  wife  he'd  'bet  fifty  dollars'  Sa- 
lome had  not  told  at  last;  but,  when  Fairfax  spoke, 
the  'J°hn'  and  'Salome'  told  the  whole  story.  That 
was  the  first  move  in  retaliation.  They  had  supposed 
that  he  would  rave  and  storm  in  helpless  rage,  then 
keep  in  secrecy,  probably  from  his  delicate  wife,  the 
shameful  story.  For  Zoe's  sake  too  they  thought  he 
would  be  silent.  These  guesses  only  proved  how 
little  they  knew  him.  He  was  a  true  descendant  of 
Samson. 

Mrs.  Burgoyne  leaned  over  the  side  of  the  carriage : 

"  Colonel  Fairfax  have  pity  on  my  innocent  child- 
ren. For  their  sake  hide  this  disgraceful  story." 

"  My  child  was  made  the  victim  of  fraud  and  lies. 
You  married  this  man,  knowing  he  was  a  runawayj 
thieving  slave.  I  shall  not  add  to  my  daughter's 
degradation  by  trying  to  hide  it.  And  now  SalomCj 
one  last  word  to  you.  Since  you  have  fully  identified 
yourself  to  me,  since  you  have  confessed  the  crime  of 
burning  my  house,  I  give  you  twenty-four  hours  to 
get  yourself  out  of  the  state." 

He  turned  abruptly,  entered  the  gate,  passed  the 
ruin  and  disappeared  up  the  path  under  the  beeches. 
His  head  was  cool  and  clear,  every  sense  was  alert 
and  ready  for  action. 


300  Jasper  Fairfax. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

Mrs.  Fairfax  sat  on  the  veranda  with  her  brother. 
She  had  taken  a  shawl  from  the  hall  tree,  and  yet  she 
shivered,  and  said,  "I  must  go  and  take  my  medicine 
and  rest  awhile." 

Westlake  answered,  "  Yes,  now  that  the  excite- 
ment's over,  you  look  very  tired." 

Still  she  lingered  to  talk  over  the  wedding,  and  to 
say  how  pretty  Zoe  looked.  What  a  beautiful  tableau 
it  was.  Even  her  father,  though  so  white  and  stern 
was  never  handsomer  in  his  life.  Westlake  was  quite 
in  sympathy  with  his  sister.  Though  he  had  said 
little  in  the  presence  of  the  colonel,  either  for  or 
against  the  marriage,  yet,  what  he  did  say  had  shown 
his  brother-in-law  his  true  sentiment.  Fairfax  had 
known  that  he  stood  alone  in  his  disapproval  of  the 
foreigner.  Westlake  was  saying:  "Now  if  the  col- 
onel can  manage,  without  committing  himself  too  far, 
to  put  Adelaide's  boy  in  old  Treslyn's  boots,  both  the 
youngsters  will  be  provided  for,  very  nicely.  There 
need  be  no  jealousy  between  you  and  Adelaide  in 
regard  to  either  money  or  position;"  when  he  saw 
Fairfax  coming  up  the  sun-flecked  walk.  He  had  his 
hat  in  his  hand,  and  as  he  approached,  the  two  on  the 
veranda  saw  how  his  face  had  changed.  The  sadness 
had  disappeared.  He  looked  as  if  at  peace  with  all 
the  world,  and  ready  for  a  new  lease  of  life  and  hap- 
piness. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  301 

"  I  guess  the  countess  has  reconciled  him,"  West- 
lake  said. 

"  I  sincerely  hope  so,"  Mrs.  Fairfax  answered. 

Then  he  was  at  the  steps.  Looking  at  his  watch 
he  called  to  a  loitering  boy  on  the  lawn  to  go  and  have 
his  horse  brought  round  at  once. 

"  Tell  Pomp  he  must  go  with  me.  Before  I  go  to 
change  my  clothes,  I  will  tell  you,  Marcia,  and  you 
George,  who  it  is  in  reality  that  Zoe  has  married." 

Mrs.  Fairfax  felt  her  heart  bound  and  then  stand 
still.  Was  her  daughter's  fortune  better  than  she  had 
expected? 

Her  husband,  seeing  her  rising  and  receding  color, 
wondered,  "  Will  it  be  safe  to  tell  her?  Can  she  bear 
it?  "  Westlake  pulled  himself  up  from  his  lounging 
position.  Things  must  be  all  right,  why  else  the 
Colonel's  altered  demeanor? 

"  I'm  pressed  for  time,"  Fairfax  said,  "  What  I'm 
about  to  do,  Marcia,  I  wish  you  to  know,  before  it  is 
done.  Brace  yourself  for  a  surprise,  and  a  bitter  dis- 
appointment. We  must  make  the  best  we  can  of  a 
shocking  bad  bargain." 

"Oh  Jasper,  what  can  it  be ! "  she  whispered. 

"  This  woman,"  he  said  deliberately,  "is  my  dead 
Uncle-in-law's  illegitimate  daughter  Salome." 

"O  Jasper!     No!     She  cannot  be!  " 

"  She  proved  herself  to  me  beyond  a  doubt.  Her 
son  is  also  illegitimate.  His  father  was  the  notorious 
old  Luke  Bedell." 

"Jasper  this  cannot  be  true!  Salome  is  dead,  long 
ago.  She  lies  buried  in  the  church-yard  yonder." 

Fairfax  hurried  up  the  stairs  followed  by  his  wife 


3O2  Jasper  Fairfax. 

and  her  brother.     While  making  a  few  changes  in  his 
clothing,  he  told  them  the  whole  story. 

When  it  was  finished,  Westlake  said: 

"  But  it  looks  silly,  unreasonable  that  she  should 
tell  you  this.  Why  shouldn't  she  have  kept  it  to  her- 
self? 

"  Because  she's  the  usual  fool  I  reckon  that  the 
average  villain  is.  She  was  surprised  that  I  was  not 
in  rage.  Evidently  she  expected  to  see  me  paw  the  air 
and  tear  up  the  earth,  and  probably  go  off  at  once  by 
the  paralysis  or  apoplexy  route,  and  she  would  walk 
into  Zoe's  inheritance.  But,  I'm  still  in  the  saddle, 
and  ready  to  out-wit  a  regiment  of  niggers,  with  Bur- 
goyne  to  lead  them." 

"Oh  but  what  will  you  do?  What  can  you  do?  " 
Mrs.  Fairfax  wailed. 

"  I'm  going  to  telegraph  Zoe  at  Farmingham.  The 
train  stops  there  thirty  minutes  for  supper.  I'll  tell 
her  the  whole  story,  and  ask  her  to  come  home.  A 
separation  can  be  arranged  very  easily." 

"And  if  she  doesn't  come?  Oh  she  was  so  earnest- 
ly in  love  with  Guido,  and  I  thought  it  so  beautiful!  " 

"  I  thought  it  a  stupendous  fraud,  but  not  as  big 
as  it  is.  We  can't  force  her  to  come  back.  If  she 
doesn't  come,  then  I  shall  call  upon  a  boy  who  was 
at  the  office  to  see  me  yesterday.  I  shall  be  in  a 
proper  frame  of  mind  to  make  very  liberal  terms 
with  him." 

"Oh  Jasper  you  won't  disinherit  our  poor  child?  " 

"  No,  I  shall  not  disinherit  her.  I'll  always  pro- 
vide for  her,"  then  with  a  smile  that  looked  amazing- 
ly like  a  sneer,  he  glanced  at  Westlake,  continuing: — 


Jasper  Fairfax.  303 

"  No  doubt  she'll  have  her  Uncle's  fortune  too,  since 
he  has  been  in  favor  of  this  brilliant  alliance." 

Westlake  rammed  his  hands  deep  into  his  trousers 
pockets,  and  muttered  a  curse  on  his  own  stupidity. 

The  colonel's  toilet  was  finished,  and  picking  up 
his  hat  and  gloves  he  said:  "No,  I'll  not  disinherit 
Zoe,  and  she  shall  come  home  whenever  she  wishes  to, 
and  stay  as  long  as  she  pleases;  but  if  that  damned 
darkey  bastard  ever  sets  foot  on  the  farms  while  I 
live,  I'll  shoot  him." 

He  hurried  down  the  stairs.  His  horse  was  at  the 
door;  he  swung  himself  into  the  saddle  and  his  wife 
heard  the  clattering  hoofs  on  the  drive.  When  all 
was  quiet,  she  called  Ceely,  had  herself  undressed 
and  threw  herself  on  her  couch,  the  most  thoroughly 
miserable  woman  alive. 

Fairfax  went  straight  to  the  telegraph  office  and 
great  was  the  surprise  of  the  operator  at  the  message. 
It  was  "just  like  the  colonel,"  everybody  said  when 
the  whole  story  was  made  public. 

After  the  message  was  sent,  he  walked  up  and 
down,  sat  for  a  minute  and  read  a  city  paper,  made 
computations  in  a  note  book,  and  finally  walked  to 
the  bank,  only  a  block  away,  saying,  "I'll  be  back  in 
a  minute.  Keep  whatever  comes  for  me." 

So  it  was,  that  as  he  came  in  a  few  minutes  later, 
his  answer  was  just  ticking  off.  He  sighed  heavily 
as  he  read: 

"  Forgive  me,  papa,  I  love  Guido.  He  is  my  hus- 
band. I  care  not  what  else  he  may  be." 

It  was  signed  only,  "  Zoe  Fairfax."  Poor  child! 
there  was  no  other  name  for  her. 


304  Jasper  Fairfax. 

The  correspondent  of  a  city  paper  put  himself  in 
the  door  as  Fairfax  was  about  to  pass. 

"Pardon  me,  Colonel  Fairfax;  may  I  have  these 
matters  for  my  letter?  " 

"  If  you'll  tell  the  plain  truth  about  them,  yes.  The 
story  is  bad  enough,  there's  no  need  of  embellish- 
ment. Get  a  copy  of  this  telegram  from  the  operator. 
I  want  this  for  Mrs.  Fairfax." 

Again  he  mounted  his  horse,  and,  in  a  few  minutes 
he  was  ringing  the  bell  at  the  door  of  Senator  Cogs- 
well's house. 

"  Is  Mr.  Fairfax  in  the  house?  "  he  asked  of  the 
boy  who  opened  the  door. 

"  Yes  sah.  Step  in  de  pa'lo',"  and  he  disappeared 
up  the  stairs  with  the  colonel's  card. 

"What  can  it  mean?"  Mrs.  Cogswell  had  wondered 
when  she  saw  Fairfax  alight  at  the  gate.  She  was 
more  than  ever  mystified  by  the  boy's  message. 

Jasper  had  but  just  come  in.  He  had  brought  Mr. 
Carleton  from  the  station,  and  was  finishing  his  ac- 
count of  his  call  upon  his  father. 

When  the  boy  handed  him  the  card,  saying  "  De 
Colonel's  in  de  pa'lo' "  Jasper  said  to  his  mother  and 
Mrs.  Cogswell: 

"  Now  this  is  beautifully  polite  of  the  colonel  to 
return  my  call  on  a  day  like  this.  Oh,  by  the  way: 
I  saw  my  little  sister  as  she  was  stepping  into  the 
coach.  Such  a  pretty,  delicate  pink  and  white  girl! 
A  real  carnation!  isn't  she  Mrs.  Cogswell?" 

"  Yes  Zoe's  very  pretty  and  sweet.  Such  a  pity ;" 
and  she  shook  her  head  sadly. 

"Now  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Fairfax,  "whatever  your 


Jasper  Fairfax.  305 

father's  errand  may  be,  don't  vex  him.  Be  patient 
and  considerate.  No  doubt  he's  very  unhappy." 

"  Now  listen  to  me,  Mother  Adelaide;"  and  he  held 
her  hands  and  gave  her  a  little  shake.  "Wouldn't 
you  better  run  down  stairs  and  tell  the  colonel  to  be 
considerate?  If  he  isn't  I'll — black  his  eye;"  and  he 
left  her,  throwing  a  laughing  glance  from  the  hall 
below. 

"  Come  away  dear,"  Mrs.  Cogswell  said  to  Mrs. 
Fairfax  as  she  leaned  over  the  baluster.  "Come  into 
my  room  and  wait.  There'll  be  no  trouble.  I'm  sure 
the  colonel  will  do  what  is  right.  He's  been  so 
troubled  over  this  love  affair,  and  his  wife  has  op- 
posed him,  all  the  way,  and  nobody  knows  who  these 
people  are,  only  they're  relations  of  John  Burgoyne. 
Now  that  it's  all  over  the  colonel  will  do  as  he's  done 
before;  in  time  of  trouble,  just  endure  it  and  make 
the  best  of  it.  You  may  be  sure  nobody  '11  ever  catch 
him  whimpering." 

Fairfax  was  walking  up  and  down  the  long  room. 
As  he  heard  his  son  come  in  he  turned  and  advanced 
to  meet  him,  extending  his  hand. 

"  You  said  yesterday  you  would  like  to  be  friends 
with  me:.  Are  you  still  of  the  same  mind?  " 

"Indeed  I  am,  Colonel.  Without  going  into  the 
ethics  of  the  situation,  or  drawing  any  lines,  it  seems 
to  me,  that  meeting,  just  as  any  two  persons  meet,  we 
might  find  each  other  pleasant.  In  spite  of  our  dif- 
ference of  opinion  in  regard  to  some  matters,  I  don't 
mind  saying  that  I  like  you  immensely." 

The  face  was  so  bright,  the  eyes  so  fearless,  the 
pressure  of  the  hand  so  firm  and  cordial. 

Fairfax    smiled :  "  You    are    certainly    generous. 


306  Jasper  Fairfax. 

I  cannot  tell  you  how  pleased  I  am  to  see  evidence  of 
so  many  of  the  best  traits  of  both  your  mother's 
family  and  my  own,  in  your  character.  You  wonder- 
ed yesterday  what  had  happened  me  that  had  sent  me 
to  the  devil.  It  was  a  disagreeable  truth  plainly 
spoken ; — " 

"  Colonel,  I  beg  your  pardon; — " 

"  Not  in  the  least  necessary.  I'm  not  here  to  make 
you  take  it  back.  The  fact  is  I've  been  puzzled  for 
some  time  over  the  same  query.  To-day,  after — the 
little  girl  had  gone,  I  found  it  all  out.  I  want  to  tell 
you  about  it.  It  will  fully  explain  my  change,  not  of 
heart,  but  of  action." 

So,  in  one  short  terse  chapter,  the  son  had  the  story 
of  his  father's  youth,  and  of  the  consequences  of  that 
one  intended  sin  that  had  only  this  day  overtaken 
him.  He  spared  himself  in  nothing.  If  this  boy  had 
trodden  forbidden  paths,  then  he  knew  that  his  father 
had  sinned  sufficiently  to  make  him  forgiving.  If  he 
had  lived  the  life  of  an  ascetic,  then,  appreciating  the 
lofty  strength  of  his  father's  character  he  must  know 
that  there  had  been  for  him,  something  sweetly  al- 
luring in  sin. 

The  story  was  finished  with  the  confession  of  Sa- 
lome. The  colonel  said: 

"  I  have  been  wondering,  ever  since  I  discovered 
Zoe's  infatuation  for  the  fellow  if  anything  I  had 
ever  done  was  accountable  for  it.  I  like  to  gather  in 
my  own  harvest  if  possible.  I  find  now  that  if  I  had 
employed  detectives  instead  of  indulging  in  sentiment 
at  the  time  of  the  fire  it  would  have  been  much  more 
sensible,  and  would  have  spared  me  remorse  then  in 
regard  to  Salome,  and  to-day  as  concerns  Zoe's  posi- 


Jasper  Fairfax.  307 

tion  in  life.  But  we  can  only  use  the  light  we  happen 
to  have,  and  take  the  consequences  of  any  mistakes 
we  make.  Everything  has  seemed  to  work  like  a 
charm  in  favor  of  Salome's  scheme  for  possession  of 
the  farms ;  but,  I  still  hold  a  higher  card  than  the  one 
she  has  taken,  and,  I  have  the  last  play." 

When  his  father  ceased  speaking,  young  Fairfax 
sat  silent  for  a  moment.  A  smile  broke  over  his  face, 
then  he  laughed  outright. 

"  Colonel,  I  beg  your  pardon ;  but,  it's  such  a  pity 
you're  not  in  position  to  enjoy  this  stupendous  joke." 

"Oh  I  think  I  appreciate  it,"  and  he  laughed  quiet- 
ly as  he  had  done  at  the  ruin.  "  I  was  so  relieved  to 
find  that  Salome  and  Victor  were  two  reckless  darkey 
fire-bugs  instead  of  blundering  martyrs  that  I  could 
have  thrown  up  my  hat  and  yelled;  but,  I  still  had 
Zoe  to  think  of." 

"  Poor  little  girl!  Clay  Jerome  was  very  fond  of 
her." 

"  Yes,  I  know  it,  and  I  had  my  hopes,  but,  there's 
no  use  of  saying  anything  more  about  it; — "  then 
he  told  of  his  message  to  Zoe  and  her  answer. 

"And  now,"  he  continued,  "since  that  old  sin  has 
run  me  to  cover,  and  another  is  fast  after  me,  I  cry 
peccavi  and  surrender.  Lord  Treslyn  and  I  are  on 
the  same  scent  for  an  heir.  I  am  ahead,  and, — " 

"Oh  Colonel  Fairfax!  No!  Believe  me  that  was 
not  my  errand  here.  My  mother  will  never  consent 
to  it!" 

The  colonel  caught  his  breath.  "I  am  very  thor- 
oughly satisfied  that  it  was  not  your  intention,  in 
coming  here,  to  claim  Fairfax  Farms;  but,  when  one 
embarks  in  an  enterprise,  there's  not  always  a  cer- 


308  Jasper  Fairfax. 

tainty  as  to  the  outcome.  Unfortunately  for  me 
your  mother  has  been  left  out  of  the  affairs  of  my  life 
for  so  long,  I  find  it  impossible  to  consider  her  now, 
excepting  vicariously." 

"  But  I  cannot  agree  to  accept  what  should  belong 
to  my — to  your  daughter." 

"  You'll  not  be  asked  to  do  that.  Your  sister  will 
be  amply  provided  for.  By  the  terms  of  the  will  I 
shall  make,  you  become  her  trustee  if  both  of  you 
outlive  me." 

"  Colonel,  I  can't!    Absolutely  I  cannot  do  it!  " 

"You  can,  and  you  will!  You'll  have  Fairfax 
Farms.  Do  you  suppose  I'm  going  to  have  that 
low-down  nigger  tramping  over  the  soil  that's  rich 
with  the  lives  and  toil  of  five  generations  of  us?  Not 
unless  1  die  within  the  next  five  minutes.  Here 
comes  Cogswell.  He's  my  man  of  business  in  mat- 
ters of  this  kind.  Send  that  hall  boy  for  your  English- 
man. I  want  this  all  settled  at  once.  Flash  may 
throw  me  on  my  way  home." 

Still  Jasper  hesitated,  smiling  and  remonstrating. 
He  was  cut  short  with: 

"Come,  sir,  I'm  accustomed  to  obedience;"  a 
pause,  then,  "from  boys;  I  confess  women  are  too 
much  for  me." 

Cogswell  came  in  as  Carleton  came  down  the  stairs, 
and  the  two  lawyers  joined  the  father  and  son.  Col- 
onel Fairfax  hurried  the  matter  through.  The 
English  document  was  filled  out,  and  amidst  Carle- 
ton's  "Bless  my  souls!  "  and  "God  bless  the  boys!" 
and  other  expressions  of  delight,  Cogswell  was  given 
a  brief  synopsis  of  the  disclosures  following  the  wed- 


Jasper  Fairfax.  309 

ding,  and  directions  for  the  drawing  up  of  a  will  dis- 
posing of  Fairfax  Farms. 

"And  now,"  said  the  colonel  rising  briskly,  "I 
must  hurry  home.  I  left  Mrs.  Fairfax  on  the  verge 
of  distraction;  but  these  matters  had  to  be  attended 
to.  When  do  you  sail?  "  turning  to  Carleton. 

"Just  as  &oon  as  this  young  man  can  make  himself 
ready.  We  will  leave  for  Washington  to-morrow. 
The  precarious  state  of  Lord  Treslyn's  health  makes 
the  utmost  haste  necessary.  I  want  him  to  see  the 
heir  I  have  found  for  him,  and  to  have  all  legal  for- 
malities complied  with  while  he  is  still  alive." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  Fairfax  responded.  "  I'll  see  you, 
Jasper,  before  you  go, — probably  at  the  station." 

He  was  nearing  the  door,  accompanied  by  the 
three,  and  by  the  Jeromes,  father  and  son,  who  had 
come  in.  In  the  hall,  he  extended  his  hand  to  his 
son. 

"Allow  me  to  be  the  first  to  congratulate  the  new 
Lord  Treslyn." 

His  hand  was  clasped  cordially,  earnestly,  and  the 
other  hand  of  the  young  man  was  on  his  shoulder. 

"  Thank  you  a  thousand  times ;  but  I  want  to  say 
that  I'd  rather  stand  here,  Jasper  Fairfax  Junior, 
than  to  be — Queen  Victoria." 

Such  a  chorus  of  laughter  was  borne  to  the  two 
anxious  women  up-stairs. 

Colonel  Fairfax  was  escorted  to  the  gate  by  his 
son  and  the  two  Jeromes.  They  went  down  the 
walk  still  laughing,  and  Pomp,  seeing  his  master  in 
such  fine  spirits  showed  all  his  big  teeth  as  Jasper 
said  to  him: 


310  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"  Darkey,  you  want  to  lead  your  master's  horse 
every  step  of  the  way  home.  He  looks  dangerous." 

"  W'y  Mas'  Jaspa,"  he  answered  "dat  hoss's  gentle 
as  HI  lamb.  Youens  des  come  to  de  fa'm  some  day 
an'  see." 

"All  right,"  Jasper  answered. 

"  This  is  your  new  Boss,  Pomp,  sure  enough," 
Fairfax  said,  and  then  with  an  exchange  of  goodbyes 
and  exaggerated  military  salutes,  master  and  man  rode 
away. 

Jasper  ran  upstairs.  In  the  hall  he  saw  his  mother, 
half  hidden  by  the  window  drapery.  Mrs.  Cogswell 
tiptoed  away  with  a  signal  to  him.  He  stole  quietly 
across  the  room,  and  silently  clasped  his  mother  in 
his  arms.  She  turned  a  white,  white  face  to  meet 
him.  Tenderly  he  kissed  her,  over  and  over  again. 

"Precious  little  mama!  She  made  a  big  mistake 
too,  didn't  she?  " 


Jasper  Fairfax.  311 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

"  Dinneh's  waitin'  sah,"  Prax  said  as  he  received 
his  master  in  the  hall. 

"  Is  your  mistress  down?  " 

"  No  sah.  She's  not  comin'.  She's  got  a  bad 
headache." 

"  Then  let  dinner  wait  a  minute  longer,  or  tell  Mr. 
George  not  to  wait,  while  I  go  and  see  Mrs.  Fairfax." 

Lying  on  her  couch  in  the  dimly  lighted  room, 
her  head  swathed  in  napkins,  her  cheeks  pale  and 
sunken,  great  purple  hollows  below  her  eyes,  Mrs. 
Fairfax  bore  no  resemblance  to  the  lovely,  fragile, 
pink  cheeked  matron  of  the  morning.  Her  husband 
knelt  beside  her  and  clasped  her  hands. 

"  Did  Zoe  answer?     Is  she  coming?  " 

"  She  answered,  but  she's  not  coming." 

"Oh !  "  Mrs.  Fairfax  closed  her  eyes,  pressing  two 
big  tears  into  the  purple  hollows  below  them. 

"  Dear,"  he  said,  "we  must  make  the  best  we  can 
of  it.  After  all,  little  Zoe's  happiness  is  the  one 
thing  we  wish  to  secure.  This  nameless  boy  may- 
prove  kind,  and  loving,  and  all  that  she  desires.  Since 
she  will  not  come  back  to  us,  let  us  hope  that  she  will 
be  happy  in  her  choice." 

"  You  can  comfort  yourself.  You  have  another 
child." 

"  That  other  child  doesn't  make  Zoe  less  dear.  That 
other  child  may  prove  a  protector  for  our  dear  girl 


312  Jasper  Fairfax. 

after  you  and  I  are  gone.  To-day,  for  the  first  time 
since  I  heard  of  the  birth  of  my  son,  I  was  glad  of  his 
existence.  To-day  I  would  be  utterly  beaten  if 
'twere  not  for  him." 

"  Does  he  resemble  you?  " 

"  Very  much.  I  hope  he  may  be  a  better  man  than 
I've  been,  and  make  fewer  mistakes.  Now  dear,  you 
must  have  a  cup  of  tea,  and  something  nice  to  eat. 
You're  quite  worn  out.  You've  had  a  great  deal  to 
do  and  bear  that  never  should  have  come  near  you. 
But,  we  can't  always  take  all  the  consequences  of  our 
sins.  How  I  regret  that,  since  I  am  responsible  for 
all  this  trouble  I  could  not  have  known,  and  been  less 
of  a  savage." 

"Ah,  I  only  wish,"  but  the  trembling  voice  broke 
down  in  a  fit  of  sobbing. 

"  There,  dear,  there,  darling  wife,  don't  bother  to 
wish  anything.  Each  one  of  us  did  what  we  thought 
was  best.  It  is  all  past.  In  the  future  we  must  try 
to  keep  Zoe  within  call.  We'll  go,  as  soon  as  you 
care  to,  and  find  her.  If  she's  unhappy  and  would 
dislike  to  come  here  amongst  old  friends,  we  will  live 
in  any  place  she  prefers.  We'll  turn  gypsies  and 
live  in  tents  for  the  rest  of  our  lives,  if  she  wishes  it." 

Mrs.  Fairfax  opened  her  swollen  eyes.  Her  hus- 
band smiled  at  her,  but,  there  was  an  unmistakable 
tone  of  pity  running  through  his  words.  This  was 
so  different  from  what  she  had  been  expecting.  She 
had  dreaded  his  coming  home,  no  matter  what  would 
be  the  answer  to  his  message  to  Zoe.  She  had  been 
so  sure  there  was  nothing  in  the  future  for  her  but 
reproaches,  or  the  lofty  scorn  of  silence.  Here  now, 
her  husband  took  all  the  blame  upon  himself,  and  was 


Jasper  Fairfax.  313 

ready  to  do  anything  for  her  own  comfort  and  repose 
of  mind.  The  future  that  she  had  pictured  through 
the  long  afternoon  as  full  of  storms  and  coldness  she 
now  saw,  in  a  tempered  peaceful  light.  Her  hus- 
band's words  and  manners  were  as  soothing  to  her 
as  a  gentle  narcotic.  Even  the  few  words  in  regard 
to  the  son  had  comfort  in  them.  She  needed  no  as- 
surance that  this  son  had  heard  no  disparaging  word 
of  her. 

Then  she  wondered  if  her  husband  had  seen  his 
son's  mother;  but  fearing  she  would  be  misunder- 
stood she  would  not  ask.  Why  should  she  care  if  he 
had  seen  her,  or  if  he  had  not?  Could  she  question 
his  loyalty  to  her  now?  If  he  could  come  to  her  with 
words  of  love  and  soothing  after  passing  through  this 
day,  what  could  he  not  do  in  the  greatness  of  his  heart, 
the  strength  of  his  soul? 

What  had  she  done  in  all  the  best  days  of  her  life 
to  deserve  the  love  of  this  man?  Being  his  wife,  re- 
ceiving all  these  years  his  affection  and  care,  she  felt 
that  universal  womanhood  was  honored  in  her.  Had 
not  the  sacrifice  made  by  Adelaide  Francis  proved 
that  she  would  have  better  deserved  the  love  and 
protection  of  this  strong  nature  through  all  her  days? 

It  was  only  right;  it  was  the  justice  of  that  eternal 
principle  that  at  last  arbitrates  all  endeavor,  that 
Adelaide's  son  and  her  own  daughter  occupied  their 
positions  in  relation  to  the  father. 

Fairfax  kissed  the  wan  cheek  and  went  down  stairs. 
At  dinner  he  told  Westlake  of  all  that  had  been  done, 
towards  putting  young  Jasper  in  the  proper  position 
as  heir  to  the  farms  as  well  as  the  English  property, 
adding: 


314  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"  Now  the  next  thing  to  do  is  to  smoothe  away 
every  care  and  annoyance  for  Marcia.  I've  told  her 
that  we  would  go  to  Europe  as  soon  as  she's  ready, 
but,  you  know,  as  well  as  I  do,  what  her  state  of 
health  is.  After  she  rallies  from  the  weariness  of 
the  last  few  weeks,  and  from  the  shock  of  to-day's 
discoveries,  she  may  be  much  better  than  she's  been 
lately.  But,  I'm  doubtful,  and  Henry  doesn't  give  me 
any  encouragement.  What  I'm  coming  at  is,  that  if 
we  find  she's  not  strong  enough  to  cross  the  water, 
I  want  you  to  go.  Zoe  won't  deceive  you." 

"All  right,  I'll  do  it." 

"  If  men  could  look  ahead  occasionally,  and  see  the 
harvesting  of  their  sins,  I  fancy  the  world  would 
rapidly  grow  better." 

Westlake  laughed.  "Old  man,  first  thing  you 
know,  you'll  be  sailing  round  here  on  a  pair  of  wings. 
Your  conscience  is  a  sort  of  foundling  hospital.  It 
takes  in  all  the  sins  that  are  lying  about  unclaimed." 

"  No  hardly  that.  I  know  my  own,  and  I  sin- 
cerely wish  that  Nemesis  would  scourge  me  for  them 
instead  of  putting  my  helpless  girl  in  the  pillory." 

They  left  the  table  and  Fairfax  went  up  to  inquire 
about  his  wife.  She  was  sound  asleep.  He  came 
down,  and  finding  Westake  on  the  veranda,  they  sat 
together  and  smoked  for  a  half  hour.  When  a  feel- 
ing of  drowsiness  stole  over  the  colonel,  he  won- 
dered at  it,  then  remembered,  as  if  it  had  happened 
years  ago,  how  he  had  passed  the  night  before. 


Jasper  Fairfax.  315 


CHAPTER  XXXVL 

Colonel  Fairfax  was  awakened  next  morning  by 
the  capricious  trilling  of  a  mocking-bird  near  his 
window.  At  first  he  heard  it  as  a  part  of  his  dreams ; 
and,  in  the  delicious  languor  that  lingers  after  a  long, 
healthful  sleep  he  lost  all  records  of  time.  He  knew 
that  he  was  at  home,  but,  was  he  not  a  child,  and 
would  he  not  hear  the  cautious  step  of  his  mother  or 
Sheba  stealing  in  to  drive  the  bird  away.  No,  it 
kept  on  singing.  He  must  be  older.  It  was  vacation 
time.  His  mother  was  gone,  his  father  an  invalid 
from  that  accident  in  the  woods  with  his  rifle.  The 
bird  would  trill  on  until  it  was  hungry  or  weary.  The 
monotony  of  the  notes  at  last  fully  wakened  him. 
Then  his  first  sensation  was  that  something  strange 
and  pleasant  had  happened  or  was  about  to  happen. 
There  was  a  delightful  sense  of  newness,  of  a  fresh 
beginning.  He  found  himself  drowsily  repeating, 
"Old  things  have  passed  away."  The  sound  of  his 
voice,  and  the  words  made  it  all  clear. 

Springing  up,  he  exclaimed:  "Oh  it's  the  boy!  the 
boy!  What  a  refreshingly  honest,  generous,  fearless 
rascal  he  is !  " 

He  dressed  himself  hurriedly,  pushing  Prax  about 
and  jeering  at  his  awkwardness  as  he  had  done  when 
they  were  boys  together;  and  Prax  answered,  "Yes, 
Mas'  Fai'fax"  until  his  master  wheeled  upon  him  and 
rushed  him  into  a  corner. 


316  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"  What  do  you  mean?  How  much  older  am  I 
now  than  I  was  a  few  days  ago?  " 

"  W'y  Mas'  Fai'fax  7  dunno  how  old  youens  is  any 
day." 

"  Well  then,  what's  the  reason  I'm  Fairfax,  now, 
after  being  Jasper  always  before?  " 

"  W'y  yo'  see  Mas'  Fai'fax,  odder  day,  I  done  see 
Mas'  Jaspa,  swingin'  long  de  street  wid  Misteh  Clay 
Jerome  lak'  de  whole  place  was'nt  mo'n  half  big  nuff 
fo'  him,  an'  I  done  tole  all  de  niggahs  roun'  hyah, 
dat  w'en  a  man  has  a  fine  son  lak  dat  he  kin  affo'd 
heaps  o'  style,  an'  I'se  not  gwine  fo'  to  call  youens 
Mas'  Jaspa,  no  mo'." 

Fairfax  stood  with  arms  akimbo,  laughing  silently 
during  this  explanation. 

"All  right  Prax,  I'll  forgive  you  if  you  call  me  Dan 
Tucker  with  an  excuse  like  that.  Here's  something 
to  use  for  drinks  to  your  young  master's  health. 
Probably  we  can  have  him  here  for  his  next  birthday 
anniversary." 

Mrs.  Fairfax  came  into  the  breakfast  room,  pale, 
quiet,  sad,  but  with  no  symptoms  of  tears: 

Fairfax  said  as  he  was  going: 

"  I'm  in  a  hurry  this  morning,  or  I'd  ask  you  to 
go  with  me.  Would  you  like  to  take  a  drive  up  the 
river  road  later  in  the  day?  While  the  afternoon 
sun  is  warm?  " 

"  Yes,  very  much." 

"  Then  I'll  come  home  and  lunch  with  you  at  one 
o'clock,  and  we'll  go  and  see  the  Spring  coming  along 
the  river." 

He  stooped  and  kissed  her,  and  was  gone. 

At  ten  o'clock  he  entered  the  waiting  room  of  the 


Jasper  Fairfax.  317 

railway  station.  The  train  was  due  in  a  few  minutes. 
He  looked  about  hurriedly,  but  amongst  the  dozen 
or  two  of  persons  there,  he  saw  neither  Jasper  nor 
Carleton.  But,  he  saw  some  one  else ; — a  tall,  slender 
elegant  woman  in  a  close  fitting  suit  of  softest  gray. 
At  the  same  instant  she  saw  him.  Their  eyes  met, 
and  she  would  have  turned  away,  but  he  advanced 
quickly  to  where  she  stood. 

Extending  his  hand,  he  said:  "Adelaide,  this  is 
too  good  to  believe.  I  came  to  finish  a  little  busi- 
ness with  Jasper." 

"  I'm  sure  he'll  be  Jiere  soon.  He  and  Mr.  Carle- 
ton  are  together,  looking  up  some  boxes  we  brought 
with  us  from  Lexington." 

"  How  little  you've  changed." 

"  Yes?  I'm  afraid  my  mirror  tells  a  different 
story." 

"  Any  change  there  may  be  has  only  added  to  your 
beauty." 

She  lifted  her  hand,  a  smile  like  sunshine  broke 
over  her  fine  face. 

"  I  never  knew  you  as  a  flatterer." 

"  No,  you  knew  me  as  a  dealer  in  plain  truth.  You 
know  too  that  this  subject  was  one  perfectly  under- 
stood between  us." 

"  Yes,  but  we  are  old  now." 

He  laughed:  "I  see  pretty  well  yet,  and  I  hope  you 
are  not  so  old  but  that  there  are  many  happy  years 
for  you  in  the  position  now  open  to  this  splendid  boy," 
as  Jasper  approached. 

"Ah,  I'm  so  glad! "  he  exclaimed,  as  he  grasped 
his  father's  hand  and  glanced  from  one  to  the  other. 


318  Jasper  Fairfax. 

"I'm  so  glad,"  he  repeated,  "that  you  came  to  see  us 
off  and  wish  us  bon  voyage." 

"I  still  had  a  trifle  of  business  with  you.  Here's  a 
letter  of  credit — " 

"  Now,  now  Colonel,"  and  he  backed  away  with 
uplifted  hands. 

"  Young  man,"  Fairfax  said  with  great  show  of 
seriousness,  "  I'm  afraid  your  mother  has  neglected 
one  part  of  your  training.  I  don't  know  what  sort 
of  a  bout  you  and  I  will  have,  some  day  to  prove 
which  is  the  better  man.  Put  this  in  your  pocket, 
or  I  must  insist  on  your  mother  carrying  it  for  you/' 

It  was  over  as  a  joke,  and  before  another  word  was 
said,  Carleton  hurried  in.  The  train  was  about  to 
stop. 

Fairfax  shook  hands  with  the  lawyer  with  hearty 
words  of  farewell  and  invitation  to  return.  He  stood 
bareheaded  while  he  clasped  the  slender  gloved  hand 
of  his  son's  mother  and  whispered. 

"  Goodbye,  Adelaide.  God  bless  you  and — our 
son." 

Then,  with  his  soul  in  his  eyes  he  turned  to  his  son. 
They  clasped  hands. 

"  Goodbye  Jasper."  His  voice  trembled,  his  mouth 
twitched  under  his  mustache. 

"  Goodbye,"*  the  pause  of  a  breath,  then, — "father." 
and  a  mist  hid  the  laughing  light  of  the  young  gray 
eyes. 

"Oh  my  boy!  my  boy!     Goodbye!" 

For  an  instant,  Adelaide  dropped  her  own  on  the 
two  clasped  hands.  There  was  an  indescribable 
look  in  her  eyes  as  she  turned  them  from  father  to 


Jasper  Fairfax.  319 

son,  then  she  hurried  away.  Carleton  handed  her 
into  the  coach,  and  Jasper  followed  her. 

Colonel  Fairfax  stood,  hat  in  hand  and  watched  the 
train  until  it  disappeared.  Then,  as  in  a  dream  he 
walked  towards  his  office.  He  had  but  one  thought: 
"Adelaide :— the  truest,  most  womanly  woman  of 
them  all." 

He  could  not  say  that  the  meeting  was  wholly  un- 
expected, undesired.  It  might  have  been  avoided. 
He  had  not  realized  the  power  that  this  wife  of  his 
youth  still  held  over  him.  When  he  saw  her,  there 
was  nothing1  to  be  done  but  what  was  done. 

He  tried  to  recall  the  resentment  he  had  felt 
towards  her.  It  was  gone.  In  its  place  stood  a 
question:  Had  any  other  man  in  the  North,  or  in  the 
South,  sacrificed  as  much  as  he  had  to  prove  his  faith 
in  his  opinions? 

Slowly  he  walked  the  streets,  swiftly  his  thoughts 
travelled.  They  were  away  hundreds  of  years,  thou- 
sands of  miles.  He  thought  of  a  profligate  king, 
lover  of  many  women,  husband  of  many  wives, 
father  of  two  daughters  and  a  puny  son.  When  he 
came  to  die,  of  all  these  women,  wives  and  paramours, 
only  one  was  remembered.  He  directed  that  his  body 
should  be  laid  beside  his  beloved  wife,  Jane  Seymour, 
mother  of  his  son. 


THE  END. 


f2tno,  doth,  $1.2$ 

THE    MASSARENES 

By  OUIDA 

AUTHOR  OF 

••UNDER  TWO  FI^GS,"  "  WAJTOA,"  KtC. 

"The  finish  of  the  story  is  as  artistic  as  is  that 
of  'Vanity  Fair'  "— N.  Y,  Journal. 

"  Ouida  in  her  old  age  has  written  her  best  book. ' ' 
— Evening  Sun. 

"  It  is  the  strongest  she  has  written  with  the  pos- 
sible exception  of  'Under  Two  Flags.' "— N.  Y.  Press 

"  Ouida  beats  them  all;  her  latest  story  is  mora 
wicked  than  those  of  the  modern  sensationalist, 
and  better  told. — Chicago  Journal. 

"  In  some  respects  the  ablest  of  all  her  books. " — 
AT.  Y.  Herald. 

"There  is  not  a  dull  page  in  the  novel. " — Boston 
Gazette. 

"  Ouida' s  stories  are  never  dull,  and  this  one  is 
quite  as  lively  as  any  of  the  others." — Army  and 
rfavy  Register. 

"She  has  not  lost  any  of  her  cynioism  nor  any  of 
her  skill  to  weave  a  seductive  plot." — Boston  Globe. 

"There  is  a  distinct  moral  purpose  running  all 
through  the  book,  a  purpose  which  it  will  be  im- 
possible for  the  most  careless  reader  to  overlook. " 
— 7%e  Beacon,  Boston. 

"  A  clever  story  of  English  high  life  as  it  is  re- 
presented to-day." — The  Bookseller. 

"  A  decided  story-interest  and  some  clever  char- 
acter drawing." — The  Outlook. 

"  Katharine  Massarene  is  drawn  with  a  skill  that 
makes  her  one  of  the  best  female  characters  that 
4  Ouida'  h,°s  given  us. " — Public  Opinion. 

/ORX:  R.  F.  FENNO  &  COMPANY 


flplii 

^  I  4ob  409    o 


